The Other Side Of Memory
by RealmOfPossibility
Summary: As a new enemy makes herself known, Snow must travel between realms to reunite with Emma and bring her back to the Enchanted Forest… Post 3x11 (contains spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

**The Other Side Of Memory**

**Snow must travel between realms to reunite with Emma and bring her back to the Enchanted Forest…**

**Post 3x11**

**A/N Hi again. I really wish story ideas would stop weasling their way into my head because I can't rest until I write them. I am not sure how it will go-it's AU since we already know that Hook is in NY with Emma on the actual show. And also Snow isn't pregnant in this, which we know is being written into the show. And while I'm at it, I'm going to pretend that Cave confession about having another baby never happened, just because I didn't like it!**

**I think I am going to write entirely from Snow's perspective, which I've never tried before. Easy does it…**

**I may use lines from the show from time to time to connect threads like I usually do. This chapter has something from 3x11. **

**Basically, I just liked the thought of Snow being the one to find Emma and bring her back. I hope you do too…**

Chapter 1

She walked another mile. And another. And after that, another still. With her husband at her side and her friends in front and behind, it was almost like the days of old.

Almost.

It was hard to remember a time when danger didn't lurk at every turn.

When something malicious wasn't plotting to destroy them.

When they could breathe.

Their group was small, consisting mostly of those from the core group brought back by the reversal of the curse. Some had since left, opting to branch out alone or join one of the many bands of men and women they passed during their travels. Some had, in turn, joined them, their eyes lighting up in hope at the thought of journeying the realm with Snow White, Prince Charming and their friends.

That light of hope had died some time ago and now they stayed only because they had nowhere else to go.

The Witch, their mysterious new enemy, seemed intent on rivalling the Evil Queen's reputation for destruction and chaos. They were never able to catch a glimpse of her. She was far too elusive for that and seemed content (for now) to triumph at a distance, using her lackeys, henchman and other enigmatic beings to wreak her special brand of havoc. Of course, there were the usual rumours that accompany anything unknown. That she had some connection to one of their party. That her skin was unlike anything any of them had seen. Which, considering who they all were, was saying something.

Still, amid all of the rumour and hearsay, there were stark truths. She was using magic against them. To scatter and conquer them. Those among the group who themselves had magic, namely Regina, Blue and Tinkerbell, could sense it in the air. Amongst the trees of the forest. The ripples of the river. The glow of the moon. They fought and they fought well, but Blue and Tinkerbell had no answer to the Witch's strange magic and Regina was strong…but not that strong.

It had crossed more than one mind that Rumplestiltskin would have made a sight for sore eyes right about now. As welcome as the Dark One could ever be. And not simply to an inconsolable Belle and a dazed and shocked Baelfire.

But, alas, he was dead and gone.

Just another challenge thrust upon them. This was hardly the first time the odds had not been in their favour.

A lot of things had changed in the year since they had all returned. Moments of joy had stood out like pinpricks of light in the darkness. An unexpected reunion with Aurora and her prince the very day they had returned. Meeting, quite unexpectedly, old friends from their former lives, those that had escaped the curse's transportation, though not its effects.

And, above all, that _feeling _of being back in the land of her birth, of being home.

But, such joy was only ever short-lived. For one thing overshadowed even the happiest of events here in the Enchanted Forest. One thing made what she saw in this new/old life a little less bright. Made the horizon and anything that lay beyond it an elusive dream.

_And now you have to go._

She was an optimistic person. It had always been her nature. Hope held her in its embrace, had done so for much of her life. She wouldn't have survived without that.

But, her heart…

She had lived twenty eight years of a curse with no knowledge of what was missing. But now, it appeared she was to feel the full effect of what she'd lost.

And she felt it.

She held the ache heavy in her chest, while keeping her head high and her words as positive as she could manage. After all, she wasn't the only one who had lost someone that fateful day. But, in those quiet moments after dark, when everyone was asleep and the only company was the birds and the moon, her eyes would stare vacantly into the night and her throat would feel so tight she could barely breathe. And she had to command her mind, reign in her thoughts, refuse to speak _her_ name for fear that she would unleash a torrent of grief that she wouldn't come back from.

Her former step-mother might have given _them_ a good life with good memories.

But, they had taken Snow's heart with them.

* * *

Nobody remembered who brought it up first. It was probably soon after the latest attack, when the fairies sat by the fire, dazed and bleeding, and Regina lay spent and bloody on a hastily-fashioned bed, barely breathing.

The need for a saviour.

_The_ saviour.

Someone whose very being existed out of the magic of True Love. The most powerful magic of all.

At first, she had been unable to listen to such conversations. Her daughter was happy, living with her son in a safe place, surrounded by the good memories she had been given. She had a _life_. Didn't she deserve that much? And she had locked out all thoughts to the contrary.

But, it was becoming increasingly apparent that they were not going to survive for long without…salvation. In some form.

It tore her in two.

They couldn't ask her to come back to this. Back to a life of constant threat. Where every sound in the night was another one of the Witch's tricks to drive them all mad, before she sent in the real danger. Where there were none of the comforts she deserved, nothing but dirt and chimera and the hard ground beneath.

No, they couldn't ask that of her.

Could they?

In the end, it wasn't even she who decided. And her secret shame was that she felt a spark of hope and confidence the likes of which she hadn't felt in a long, long time.

* * *

It was easy to sit back and let everyone put forward their arguments about who should go and find Emma (she had allowed herself to speak her name once more). Especially since she'd already decided she would be the one. Let them all talk themselves to death before she swooped in and rendered their debate useless.

"_She's my daughter," _claimed Charming. His point was shot down by several people at once with comments like, _'you never went outside Storybrooke'_ and _'you're our leader and we need you here.'_

"_I'll do it," _offered Neal, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. But, the rebuttal came: _'If she has any memories of you, they may not paint you in a good light. You won't have been around for eleven years. She won't trust you.'_

"_I think I'll be the one most able to convince her," _said Hook fervently. _"We have a…friendship of sorts. I think she'll trust me." _

'_Had,' _came the reply._ 'You had a friendship. Wherever she is, now you're just a strange man with a hook. That gives you no advantage.'_

She sensed her moment had arrived. There was really no one else who had any kind of claim to the task. She stood and moved to the head of the circle.

"I am going."

There was an awkward silence. Several people looked ready to speak up, but hesitated because of who she was. Or maybe it was because of the look in her eye.

"Snow," David said, shaking his head. "You can't."

She looked at him levelly, knowing he simply meant, _I don't want you to_. That it would mean yet another separation in a love story that had known almost nothing but.

David loved Emma, there was simply no doubt. He had loved her from the moment he had taken her in his arms to whisk her away to the wardrobe. He had all but died for her before the curse had collapsed on them in a black cloud of destruction. And Snow had seen that look in his eye, the tears he'd shed at their reunion not much more than a year ago. And he would risk life and limb for her again, in a heartbeat.

But, his responsibilities were enough to keep him here. With the people of a kingdom that needed him. And they needed him desperately.

But, she…?

She would let nothing keep her.

There would never be any question of who came first in her mind.

"If you think about it, I am the most logical choice." She looked determinedly around the group. "No, I have never been outside Storybrooke, but I am sure I can find some kind of accommodation wherever I end up. I've lived in worse places than questionable motel rooms. All I need is some money and I'm sure Regina can use magic for that."

All eyes immediately shifted to the former Queen, bruised and pale and barely recovered, who locked eyes with Snow. It was a look not between enemies, but from mother to mother. A look shared more than once as the months passed. After a brief pause, Regina nodded and Snow felt herself smile faintly. She knew the woman's desire to hear something, anything, of Henry would be too great to pass up.

She wasn't done. That hadn't even been her strongest argument.

"I am her mother. She trusts me." She looked around the group. "I know her and from the moment she walked into Storybrooke, we were drawn to each other. She went against her better nature to move in with me. She opened up to me with things I'm sure she'd told almost no one. Before the curse was even broken, we were best friends." She dared them with her eyes to defy her. "There is no one better qualified to bring her back than I am."

There was, surprisingly, little opposition in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks for jumping on board this story. When I started planning it, I thought I would just make it a long one-shot of about 5-10K. But, then more ideas kept coming up for how to develop it, so now we're looking at about 10 chapters, just to keep the pace realistic. **

**Lines in this chapter come from 3x11.**

**FYI I don't usually do this, but I went over Chapter 1 and added a few bits here and there and reposted it. Check it out if you are so inclined…**

Chapter 2

The clearing was quiet. It was the peace of early morning, a peace she desperately needed after another sleepless night.

She'd had far too many of those lately. She would lie in the safety of David's arms and stare wide-eyed into the night, her mind a mess of tumultuous feelings and thoughts.

The Witch. What would this new threat do while she was away, unable to contact anyone, unable to know if anything terrible had happened to the people she cared about? David had already assured and reassured her that they would not be making any moves against the Witch until she returned, but that didn't mean the Witch herself wouldn't make any moves of her own. If only they knew her agenda! What she could possibly want with them, their land, their home. There was always a motivation, even if nobody else could understand what it was.

More than the Witch and her intentions, though, was preying on Snow's mind.

Emma and Henry.

Emma.

None of them knew exactly what kind of life the two had driven towards when they had crossed the town line and escaped the magic. Even Regina had confessed to not being fully aware of what would happen once they left for their new life. Emma could be anywhere, doing anything. Perhaps her new life included more than just Henry.

A lot could change in a year.

"I do hope your efforts to retrieve the Saviour include more than standing and staring into space."

Snow jumped slightly at the interruption of her thoughts and sighed softly. Even after everything, Regina's acerbic observations still had the ability to sting and bite. Not even her love for Henry or her attempts at a 180 degree turn in behaviour could dull that.

"You _have_ some kind of plan, don't you?" Regina continued, walking forward to stand beside her. Something else Snow was unused to-Regina's proximity without threat. "I know your penchant for blundering your way through…"

"Well. It has seen us though so far," Snow bit back, unable to stop herself from taking the bait her former stepmother dangled in front of her.

"Of course, dear," Regina replied and Snow could practically hear her eyes rolling.

Snow turned to fully face her.

"It's going to take time," she declared firmly, knowing Regina's disdain for biding time, being patient. Waiting. "First of all, I have to find her."

Regina's lip twitched upward slightly.

"I thought that's what you people did? _Find_ each other," she drawled.

She raised an eyebrow defiantly.

"Well, we found _you_ after Greg and Tamara kidnapped you, so I suppose you must be right." She felt a brief surge of satisfaction as something flashed in the other woman's eyes. But, after the satisfaction, she just felt weary. This wasn't what she wanted. Not at all. "Regina, I don't want to fight with you, ok? We don't get along and it's fine if you would prefer to be nowhere near me. That's not what we are here for right now. But,_ I_ need you to help me get to wherever they are and _you_ need me to bring them back. To bring _Henry_ back."

It was the one thing that never failed to stop Regina in her tracks. Reforming or not, evil or not, her son's name was like a tonic that soothed the savagery that simmered beneath the surface. Snow knew she resented it, had even accused them of using Henry as some kind of invisible leash to rein her in, tie her down. But, in the end, she always stayed her hand, always chose another path.

Snow hoped one day Regina could finally see just how strong love truly was. That Cora's words would finally turn to ash and be purged forever.

She watched as Regina clenched her jaw and looked away for a moment, before turning back.

"Fine," she smiled painfully. "What are you planning to do when you find her?"

Snow narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

"I won't approach her right away. I don't want to risk screwing it all up by charging in too soon and cutting myself off before I've even had a chance."

To her surprise, Regina nodded.

"I'll figure out the best way to make first contact and then I'll work on gaining her trust. She will believe nothing I say if she doesn't trust me. _That_ I know for sure." As she spoke the words, a wave of trepidation washed over her. Getting Emma to trust a stranger off the street would be hard enough, let alone getting her to believe in what she had to say. It had taken Henry and then August the better part of a year to do that and in the end it had taken Henry to the brink…

"Well, it's as you say, dear," Regina stated, turning her head to survey their surroundings. "She always trusted you. Just don't take too long. In case it has slipped by you, things don't appear to be going quite so well here."

It was the tone that drew Snow's attention. Much more quiet than the woman's usual aggressive, derisive manner of speaking. And there was something else…something disconcerting. Uneasy.

"You're wondering, too," Snow realised, taking a step forward and turning to face Regina. At the woman's look of discomfort, she nodded. "You're wondering if we should really bring them back at all." It was with a strange sense of relief that she accepted this shared feeling between them. If anyone else felt the same, it had been unspoken.

Regina turned so Snow could only see her profile as she gazed at something Snow couldn't see.

"It was enough," Regina said tightly, the muscles in her neck working as she swallowed hard. "It was enough to simply make him happy, even if I…if we…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes dropped to the ground.

Snow nodded and her lips moved upward in the barest flicker of a smile.

"Even if we lost them forever?" she finished. "Even if we ourselves didn't make it?"

Regina's eyes found hers again and this time, it was the former queen who moved forward into Snow's space, her dark eyes deep and serious.

"Snow," she spoke in a low voice. "I will understand, even if nobody else ever does, if you come back without them. If you see them and…choose not to…I will understand."

Snow stared at her, astonished by this disquieting empathy coming from her former enemy. Only months ago, she would have guarded her heart, looked for the ulterior motive, the hidden agenda behind such words. But, it was as before. They faced each other as mothers without children. Mothers who wanted their children to find the happiness that had eluded them.

She couldn't deny the thought had crossed her mind on more than one occasion over the past few days. About the choice she would face should she find Emma happy and thriving. One choice-to shatter that bubble and call back all of the heartache and madness of the past years. Or the other choice-to walk away, return to the Enchanted Forest and live the rest of her days knowing that her daughter was out there, living in the world. Free.

If she had been about to say anything, it was interrupted by a rustling from behind them. They both spun as Hook emerged from between the trees. He stopped some paces from them and looked from one woman to the other. His head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, loves," he said, gesturing at them with the shining silver of his missing hand. "I wanted to make a special delivery."

Regina started and moved around Snow, striding toward the pirate.

"You got it? So soon?" she asked, almost sounding impressed.

Hook shook his head, smirking as if he knew a greatly desired secret.

"Not it, Your Majesty. _Them._" His face broke into a grin.

Snow felt her mouth drop open in surprise.

"You found two? How is that even possible?" she gasped, joining the others over by the trees. She looked down as Hook reached down to his belt and undid the clasp on a small bag, barely larger than that which someone might keep jewellery in. He held the bag up for a moment, as if admiring his own handiwork, then passed it to Regina.

The woman wrenched the small bag open and reached in, fumbling for a moment before removing its contents. She withdrew her hand slowly and uncurled her fist, revealing the contents of the bag to Snow.

The two beans sat innocently in her palm and Snow again marvelled at how such tiny things could be what their hopes all rested on.

"I'm a little curious about something, though," Hook said. As the two women looked up at him, he continued. "If we're still to assume no magic exists in Emma's world, how will the lovely Snow White here make a return portal?"

Regina pursed her lips and returned the beans to the bag, passing it carefully to Snow. Snow clenched the bag in her hand, already feeling the pressure of not losing the precious items.

"That's why it was so important to have two. After we use the first bean to send Snow through, I will be keeping the second," Regina replied smoothly, glancing over at Snow.

"Then how…?" Hook began.

"Snow and I will decide on an appropriate timeline in which to give Emma the necessary information and convince her of its truth. After that timeline has lapsed, I will use the second bean to open the portal again and allow Snow through, hopefully with Emma and Henry with her." She glanced at Snow again and the unspoken thought passed between them.

_Unless she decides otherwise._

Hook nodded.

"How long?" he asked.

Snow sighed. That was, indeed, the question. Last time it had taken a year for Emma to finally see. They didn't have the luxury of such a long passage of time. In fact, it was really an as-soon-as-possible kind of scenario. She lifted her head to find Regina looking at her expectantly.

"It's up to you," Regina said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Whatever you deem to be sufficient."

Snow furrowed her brow, desperately trying to calculate things that were impossible to equate with numbers. Convince her long-lost daughter that the world she knew was, in fact, the result of a spell. That the family she thought had long-abandoned her was in another realm, on the run from a wicked witch determined to end them all? That the mother she thought had never loved her was the one who would give up everything in her power for her? That she, a saviour, had been destined to undo curses, to fight dragons. To find those who loved her the most.

"A month?" she finally answered, completely unsure. In some ways, it seemed like plenty of time. In others, terrifyingly short.

There was a brief silence. Then, Regina nodded in acquiescence.

"A month, then. Thirty days and I will open the portal again." Her eyes locked on Snow's. "It won't stay open for long. A few hours at most. Enough for you to get through if…things don't go well."

"I still say I could swoop in and end it quickly with True Love's Kiss," Hook said, grinning to assure them of the joke.

Snow felt her mood lift slightly and rolled her eyes.

"I think one kiss with my daughter was enough."

He nodded, still smiling. Then, his face grew serious.

"When will you set off?" he asked.

Snow looked over toward their camp.

"As soon as I have gathered my things and said my goodbyes," she replied. "An hour?" she said to Regina. At the woman's nod, Snow turned and walked back to their camp.

An hour before she attempted to change the world.

* * *

His eyes betrayed his true emotions. Not that David was a man to show fear or indecision, but the way he looked at her, the way his gaze softened as their eyes met, she was able to read the uncertainty that lay within.

"I'll be back in thirty days," she whispered and his arms tightened around her.

"Promise?" he murmured, pulling them impossibly closer and turning his face into her hair. It was strange. Many of their previous goodbyes hadn't even been goodbyes, simply events that had cascaded around them, leaving them little to do but stare helplessly at each other or fight against the enemy that sought to tear them apart. But now, they had this extravagance of a few short moments to say everything they had ever wanted to say. Even then, they had done little more than hold each other

"Promise," she murmured in reply, feeling the safety he had always provided in his embrace. She squeezed tightly one final time and then pulled back reluctantly. She reached down to pick up the small pack she was to take with her and flung it onto her back. David reached down and clasped his fingers around hers tightly. Together, they walked to where their group was waiting to see her through the portal.

Their faces were solemn. They knew what was at stake. Their very lives depended on her and, again, her dilemma came to mind. Regina had all but given her permission to leave Emma and Henry where they were, but could she do that at the expense of everyone here that she loved?

Snow shook her head slightly and mentally pulled herself together. That was a thousand steps ahead of where she was right now. First things first. Turning to Regina, she nodded.

"I'm ready," she said.

Regina held up one of the beans in her hand.

"I've weaved a spell that should narrow down your location, but I cannot tell you with exactness how close you will be to Emma's whereabouts. Your memories will remain intact. It's all very similar to when we travelled to Neverland. Of course, there will be no magic, so you will have to rely on your wits to get by." She seemed about to add something, but stopped as if knowing it wasn't the time for quips and barbs.

Snow took in a deep breath, feeling the thudding of her heart intensify. It wasn't the first time she had ever travelled through a portal. But, it would be her first time alone. She tried not to think of the frightening questions she could voice, about things that could go wrong, about what would happen if she missed the deadline, about veering off course and into who knew what kind of nameless void. She tightened her grip on her pack and licked her dry lips, feeling everyone's eyes on her.

"I'll see you in thirty days," she said, smiling crookedly as she looked around the group. She felt David press his lips against her cheek and then pull away to stand with the others, leaving herself and Regina at the head.

"Thirty days from today," Regina repeated and turned. She looked down at the bean in her hand and then lifted her arm and flung the bean forward. It spun in the air and glowed brightly and, then, with a rising howl, the portal opened in front of them, rushing and spinning wildly.

Regina stepped back.

"It's up to you, now," she said.

Snow straightened her shoulders and fixed her gaze on the vortex. How many dangers had she faced in her life? How many of them had been for love? She thought of her tiny baby, wrapped in a blanket, thought of the heartache of watching her dreams disappear in front of her eyes. Thought of her fierce, strong, determined daughter, still vulnerable in so many ways. Still a lost girl looking for someone.

_Looking for me_, Snow thought as she took a step forward. And another. Before the curse had broken, Emma had confessed many things about how she felt about her parents, of how hard she had searched for them. And after the curse, there had been so many mixed feelings, so many hidden emotions that had burst forth. Not all of them happy. But, all culminating in those brief moments after she had been told to escape with Henry.

_I don't want to._

_I've just found you._

Her beautiful, brave daughter. Snow stood at the edge of the portal and gazed into it. Of course, every parent was proud of their child.

But, who had ever had such a child as Emma?

And who had ever crossed realms alone just for the hope of reunion?

Snow braced herself for…well, whatever was about to come.

And leaped into the portal.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks for reading. Some people are a bit unhappy I didn't send Charming with Snow and if it were any other writer than myself, they might have done that. But, if you have read my stories before, you know who I write :) Sorry to disappoint anyone…**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

It was scratching around somewhere in the recesses of her mind. Coaxing her brain back to wakefulness. She wasn't sure if it was friend or foe, not yet. It was still too far away to really know. She mentally reached toward it and eventually she determined it was a sound. It grew louder and she kept pulling herself closer and closer to it until…

_Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!_

Snow's eyes blinked open and she squinted as the glaring sunlight shone right in her face. No, it was too bright, too concentrated for that. She turned her head slightly and the light vanished from her eyes. A reflection off a window perhaps. She shifted her position on the ground and felt the hardness underneath her back.

Cement.

Cold, hard cement.

She lifted her head and her eyes flew back and forth. She appeared to be in some kind of alley. Tall buildings rose to her left and right, mazes of stairs running down their sides. There were giant dumpsters running down the alley, the occasional piece of rubbish floating lazily as the breeze picked it up.

_Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!_

She swallowed hard. Her mouth was dry. She could see the car up ahead, its lights flashing in time with the shrill noise.

The buildings. The car. The cement. The kinds of things she hadn't seen in a year.

She was here. She had made it.

"Lady! Hey Lady! You OK?"

A shadow drifted across her, followed by an anxious face. A man, probably mid-thirties, reached out a hand cautiously, as if afraid to touch her.

Snow winced and sat up slowly, reaching back to rub her shoulder. Her butt felt a little tender too. She must have landed hard when the portal had spat her out.

The portal!

Her head snapped up suddenly, her eyes darted around and her chest clenched in panic at the thought that this man had seen the portal, seen the howling purple cloud of magic. To her relief, there wasn't a trace of it anymore, but who knew how long he'd been there with her? Who knew how long _she'd_ been there?

"I'm fine," she insisted, smiling quickly and taking his offered hand, pulling herself to her feet with his assistance. As her mind cleared, her strength returned, allowing her to look carefully at her would-be rescuer. He didn't seem particularly rattled, not in the way someone would be on seeing magic for the first time. She recalled a few of Emma's reactions to things she had seen in the past few years. Responses of awe and disbelief, yet voiced in that typical Emma way. But, this man was showing none of that. He was just nervous and worried at the sight of a woman collapsed on the ground. "Thank you, but I really am ok."

He smiled doubtfully and pulled away from her. Took a step or two away, appraising her.

"I could take you to the emergency room?" he offered, still unsure, but not wishing to push his assistance on her.

She raised a placating hand and widened her smile.

"Well, if you're sure…" he said, his voice trailing off. At her nod, he backed away, eventually turning around and continuing on down the alley. He looked back at her a couple of times, as if to check that she was as she had said.

Finally, she was alone. Her smile disappeared. Snow heaved a deep breath and looked up and down the alley again. She spotted a backpack lying close by. Her pack, now transformed into something more befitting this world. In place of leather was something more synthetic, more artificial. At that thought, she looked down at her clothes. A rush of familiarity pulsed through her at the attire she now sported. Something more akin to what Mary Margaret would have worn. Something that reminded her she had been a citizen of two worlds.

She picked up the backpack and moved over to a wall, sitting down and leaning against it. She sat still and listened for a moment. She had lived in two lands, yet what she heard was still unfamiliar. She had never lived in a big city, so the humming and buzzing of traffic rumbled through her strangely. The buildings she could see were taller than what she had ever seen before, stretching up so high she had to crane her neck to see their tops. And the smell. She supposed after spending a year back in the forest, it would be difficult to get used to this smell again. The smell of machines. Of industry. Smoke and dust and fumes.

Snow turned her attention to the backpack. Zipping it open, she thrust her hands inside to widen it and see inside. She reached in and pulled out a few items of clothing, similar to those she had on. Underwear, toiletries, enough supplies for a few days, but she would need to go shopping at some point. Tucked near the bottom of the bag was a purse, plain in colour and design. She pulled it out and opened it, rifled through it. There was some cash, what looked like a few hundred dollars in various bills, again enough for a few days. She flicked through the card section and her eyebrows raised. A driver's license with an address listed in Maine. She flicked through again and found a Visa card, her signature on the back.

She leaned back against the wall and shook her head slightly, marvelling somewhat at the details a spell could provide. Then again, Regina had done this with a whole population before. Doing it for just one person had probably been a snap.

Snow stuffed all the items back in the pack and zipped it up. First things first. She had to find out where she was. She wondered if this was Boston, after all, that was where Emma had been when Henry had first found her. But, new memories and a re-lived life could mean anything. Anything at all.

She stood up and began walking to the end of the alley. Where was she? What time was it? Where was the nearest hotel? All questions needing immediate answers. But, they were all minor considerations compared to the one pressing at the forefront of her mind at all times.

Where was Emma?

* * *

The lights of New York were bright and unending. As she stood at the window of her hotel room, traffic rushed by below her and crowds of people still walked around, heading this way and that. It was rather late, but it looked as busy as it had hours ago.

She still remembered how after about 8pm, Storybrooke's streets had usually been empty and quiet, its residents inside for the night. Occasionally, she herself had been out a little late, working at the school or out to dinner, especially after Emma had arrived and time had begun moving again. She felt a strange pull at the thought of the town she had lived in almost thirty years. It had all been part of a curse, but the Mary Margaret part of her couldn't remember it being a bad place to live. Quiet, peaceful, pleasant. And the Enchanted Forest, well, they had always operated by the hours of the sun. They got up when it was light and turned in after sunset. And the sounds of the night, the insects and animals, had been comforting.

But, here in New York? This place showed no signs of slowing down, no indication that it would be shutting down anytime soon. She had been shocked to discover her location, so sure had she been that it would be Boston, though she supposed there had been no real reason to be so convinced. Her first thought was that Regina had twisted the spell, sent her off into this concrete wilderness to be rid of her once and for all, stranded forever. But, almost immediately, she had squashed that thought. Regina longed for her son too much and despite the somewhat diminishing hostility, Snow no longer believed the woman would resort to such treachery.

Besides, David would tear her to pieces at the slightest hint of betrayal.

Her second thought was that the spell simply hadn't worked. Instead of locating Emma's approximate location, it had simply dumped her into this world randomly and wished her good luck. But, that too, made little sense. Regina was powerful when it came to magic. She knew what she was doing and rarely made mistakes.

Which meant Snow was supposed to be here. In New York.

Which meant her daughter was somewhere in this enormous city. She was closer to Emma than she had been since she had kissed her goodbye with an aching heart. The thought both thrilled and unsettled her.

Snow turned away from the window and looked down at the table against the wall. A piece of paper with a list of scrawled names and addresses lay on it. After leaving the alley and diving into the streets of the vast city, she had found a decent hotel quite quickly. After paying for a few nights (and holding her breath as her first VISA transaction was processed), her first port of call had been the three computers in an alcove near the lobby. Another woman sat at the far computer and Snow sat with a computer between them. She knew she had no reason to feel nervous. She wasn't doing anything wrong. But, the butterflies in her gut were fluttering furiously. Perhaps from anticipation.

The result of her search had found seven registered possibilities.

Seven E. Swans living in New York.

She had opened another tab and searched for a map of the city and its surrounds. She had stared at it, utterly daunted, for a full minute. But, counting on the fact that the location spell had been accurate (of all things, trusting in Regina!), she had used the map to quickly eliminate four of the candidates, judging their distance from her to be too far.

Leaving three.

Three chances.

Returning to the present, Snow climbed into bed and smoothed the covers over herself. She tried to calm the thoughts flooding her mind, the hammering of her heart. When she woke up in the morning, she would begin her search. But, there would be one less day. One less day to find her daughter and remind her of everything she hadn't spent a year missing. As she drifted off, Snow recalled Regina's words.

_I will understand…if you come back without them._

In the forest, when it had been nothing more than arbitrary discussion, plans yet to be formed, it had seemed possible. To see Emma living in the land without magic. Living her good life. And being able to walk away. But, now? Being here with the daughter she ached for within reach?

Snow wasn't sure if she was strong enough to let her go again.

* * *

She was, in equal parts, relieved and disappointed.

The first E. Swan was a man. An elderly one at that.

After rising at the crack of dawn after a mostly sleepless night, she had showered and dressed in record time, not wanting to waste a single minute. She had found the building easily enough, run her eyes down the list of tenants and then pressed the buzzer next to the name. But, the slightly tremulous and definitely masculine voice had enabled her to cross number one off the list immediately.

She apologised and left.

Now, she stood at building number two. E. Swan number two.

She pressed the buzzer.

And waited.

And waited.

She pressed it again.

And one more time.

That was it, then. No one was home.

"Can I help you?"

Snow spun around to face the woman standing behind her. She felt her breath leave her in that strange mixture of relief and disappointment. She looked down at the stroller the woman was pushing, at the little boy sitting inside, head lolled to the side, sleeping peacefully.

"Oh…I…uh, I'm looking for the person who lives in this apartment," Snow replied, gesturing to the buzzer she had just pressed.

"Yes, that's me," said the woman, nodding patiently, a friendly smile on her face.

"Oh," Snow said. "You're E. Swan?"

The woman nodded.

"Yes, Ellie. Elinor. I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

Snow blew out a breath, stepping away from the door to the building.

"Oh. No. I'm sorry," she said, feeling suddenly flustered. "I think I have the wrong apartment. I'm looking for someone else. I'm sorry."

The woman looked at her curiously.

"No problem."

Snow felt the woman's eyes on her as she walked away. She stared straight ahead, walking briskly until she turned a corner. Then, she stopped and leaned against the wall, attempting to compose herself. Why was she so nervous? It was her daughter, for goodness sake!

Her daughter.

Her daughter, who she wished would magically remember everything upon laying eyes on Snow. But, who would probably look at her blankly, as if she were looking at any other stranger. Snow bit her lip. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was the reason for her tumultuous feelings. In her heart, she was ready for that look. She knew it was going to hurt when Emma gave her that look.

Snow looked up and down the busy street. There was, quite literally, no one in this world who knew who she was. For all the people in this city, she was completely unknown. Completely alone. She felt the sudden stab of loneliness at that.

All the more reason to get on with it. All the more reason to find Emma and Henry.

She pulled out the piece of paper with the list of names and addresses and the map she had printed. On identifying her last location, she stepped out into the street to find a taxi.

She instructed the taxi driver to let her out a few blocks from her destination. There was a park on the corner and she suddenly imagined Henry going there to kick a ball around, which was strange because she couldn't recall ever seeing him do that before.

She slowed and stopped when she arrived at the building. Staring up at it, Snow again felt the nerves pounding through her. This was it? This was where Emma lived? What if she was wrong again? This was the last address on the list. What if the spell had been wrong and it was one of the other E. Swans? Was Swan even her name anymore? Snow shook her head against the flurry of irrational thoughts and grimly told herself to get a grip. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked across the street and ascended the steps to the building's entrance.

Once again, she stopped at the list of names. Once again, her eyes ran down the list to locate the name she needed. Once again, she lifted her hand and pressed the buzzer with one finger. She swallowed hard and waited.

Nobody answered and she stayed at the door for ten minutes, pressing the buzzer intermittently in case whoever was inside was in the shower or blow drying their hair.

But, this time nobody came.

Feeling somewhat deflated, Snow stepped back and walked slowly down the steps. It was still fairly early and now she had nothing to do. She couldn't make a move until she knew whether or not it was really Emma who lived in this apartment building. She walked back down the street, toward the park and spotted a diner. At least she could eat something while she decided what to do.

She went inside and ordered coffee and scrambled eggs. She grabbed a newspaper on her way to a table, imagining she could while away a little time by finding out what was happening in this world. Certainly no witches with malicious intent would take up the headlines. She couldn't recall keeping up with the news before the curse. She sometimes watched the news, but must have occupied herself some other way. And after the curse broke, well, she'd had far more important things on her mind than the state of the economy and the progress of peace talks in the latest warzone.

Yet, as she flicked through the pages, it appeared that nothing had really changed in the world since she'd been gone.

She closed the paper with a sigh and sat back, playing with her coffee cup.

"Are you finished with that?"

She looked up at the question.

And stared at the person in front of her, her mouth open slightly. Her throat closed off and she blinked rapidly, trying to form words on her tongue.

Of all the things she had expected to be at this moment, emotional, afraid, nervous, she hadn't expected to be _speechless_.

Yet, here she was. Stunned speechless. Her heart felt like it was about to throw itself out of her chest.

"Henry, I've heard the word 'please' goes down really well at times like this," a voice said from beyond the boy standing with her.

The boy, _Henry, her grandson_, looked sheepish and smiled crookedly at her.

"Sorry," he said. "Could I please have that newspaper? It's for my sitter." He jerked his head behind himself to indicate the woman who had joined them.

Somehow, Snow's hand made its way slowly to the newspaper, somehow her fingers slipped under it to pick it up and somehow, somehow, she maintained eye contact with Henry to pass him the paper.

Her mouth opened.

"Here," an alien voice came from her lips. "I'm done with it."

Henry nodded and took the newspaper, smiling wider. He looked so much the same. His face, one she had seen almost every day for eleven years, was so familiar, so comforting, she could hardly…

"Thanks," he said and he and the woman moved to a table on the far side of the diner.

She stared at them for the next twenty three minutes. Watched them as they ate. Watched them as they chatted and laughed. Watched them as they play fought. Watched them as they pushed their chairs back and left the diner.

Until she could no longer see them.

As Snow blinked and sat back, she lifted her hand and brushed at the tears she hadn't realised were making their way down her cheeks.

She'd found them.

The spell had worked and she'd found them. She couldn't stop the smile from creeping across her face. Maybe the hard part wasn't over. Maybe the hard part had only just begun. But, she had just jumped a giant hurdle.

She stood up from the table, gulped the remaining mouthful of stone-cold coffee and made her way to the door. As she opened the door, a breeze blew in, ruffling papers attached to a bulletin board next to the doorway. A couple of papers came loose from their pin and fluttered to the floor. She let go of the door and stooped to pick them up. She pulled a spare pin out of the board to reattach the papers.

Then she saw it. She looked again, then reached up to pull a tab off one of the notices pinned up there.

And smiled.

A stroke of good fortune indeed.

* * *

She dialled the room telephone, waiting for the ring indicating an outside line. Then, she dialled the number on the small piece of paper in her hand.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Snow said quickly. "Is this Jason?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

Snow cleared her throat.

"Hi, my name is Mary Margaret, I'm calling about the advertisement you put up to sub-let your apartment."

"Oh," the man named Jason said, his voice perking up. "You're interested?" He chuckled. "I guess that's why you're calling."

"Yes," Snow replied, nodding though he wouldn't see it. "I have been staying in a hotel, but I really need a place as soon as possible. I was wondering if I could meet you and have a look at the place?"

"Well, actually, I've already left the state," came the reply. "But, I've put my brother Paul in charge of finding someone. The place is in great condition. It's partly furnished, so there's already a washer and dryer, refrigerator, couch, all that stuff. Do you want me to give you his number?"

"Yes," Snow replied enthusiastically. "That would be great. Thank you." She wrote it down as he dictated it to her and hung up. An hour later, she had organised to meet Paul at the apartment the next day.

The unoccupied apartment in Emma's building.

**A/N If you're waiting for Emma to arrive on the scene and the big meeting, you'll just have to wait a little longer, but when she does arrive, she'll arrive with a bang!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thanks for reading :) There is a trigger warning for this chapter. Without spoiling the content, just be warned there is something a bit nasty at the end, though I don't think it is too graphic. There's also a little bit of bad language, more than I normally like to put in, but it is appropriate for the situation. Consequently, the rating has jumped up.**

Chapter 4

Twenty-six days.

Six hundred and twenty four hours.

Never had time become so present in her thoughts. She had twenty six days left (twenty-five and a bit if she was being honest, being so late in the afternoon) and she had still to catch even a sight of Emma.

Not for lack of trying. She had yet to move into what was now her new apartment, but she had found a hotel closer to it. She was meeting Paul again the next day to pick up the keys and then the place would be hers. Well, temporarily. Which was why she hadn't yet approached Emma's apartment. She had no real excuse to be there. Not yet. But, tomorrow, when she was a legitimate occupant of the building…

In the meantime, she was staking the place out as much as time and social convention would allow. It was a fine line between remaining anonymous and being able to cover every part of the building and its surrounds. She ate every meal in the diner, taking as long as possible over her food in the hope that Emma and Henry would come in.

But, they didn't.

She walked the streets of what was her new neighbourhood, spending hours in the park nearby. She had purchased a few paperbacks to read while she waited, though she usually had to go back and reread whole paragraphs that had slipped from her mind in distraction. Her eyes constantly drifted up to scour the open space, wondering if they would wander through.

They didn't.

She had seen Henry once more since their first encounter. A fleeting glimpse as he left for school one morning, walking past the diner on the opposite side of the road. She had craned her neck, wondering if Emma was with him. She hadn't been and it made Snow wonder what Emma did for a living. She knew her daughter had once been a bail bondswoman and, of course, she had been the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Perhaps she was still in law enforcement of some kind. Or perhaps that was one of the unknowns of this spell. Perhaps this new life had fulfilled secret dreams of all kinds.

That was one thing about having so much time on her hands and so little to distract her. The hours of thinking time. Endless moments to contemplate the long years of her life. She was, after all, technically in her fifties. A truly bizarre thought considering what she saw when she looked in the mirror and how she felt inside herself.

Yet, those thoughts were quite fleeting. The ones about herself. Mostly because it was hard to come to grips with her history when she now felt so far removed from it. It was hard to reconcile an old feud with an Evil Queen when she was sipping a latte in a sunny park. It was hard to resolve feelings about living in a magical forest when she sat on her bed, blow drying her hair.

Besides, there were infinitely more important things to think about. She sometimes called to mind the one photo she had ever had of herself and Emma, basically a selfie of the two of them. It made her chest tighten every time at the rare, genuine smile her daughter had offered to the camera. Back then, they had simply been two friends enjoying each other's company. A small memento of a perfectly ordinary moment.

Emma hadn't really looked like that since. Most moments after the curse broke had been anything but ordinary, anything but easy. And the moments Snow best recalled tore the wound in her heart a little wider.

Emma's overwhelmed, almost shy downturn of eyes as Snow had held her face the moment of their reunion. The Mary Margaret in her knew how much Emma must have wanted to run away and hide, yet at the same time, clutch and grasp at her in the moment she had been dreaming of her whole life. She had been so thankful to be Mary Margaret at that moment, to have had foreknowledge of the woman she hadn't known was so much a part of her until then.

And Snow recalled that moment in the Enchanted Forest, in the very nursery she and David had made, when Emma finally broke. Finally saw what Snow had tried to do from the very moment of her birth, even if it had been a miserable failure.

Put her first. Give her a chance.

It had been a tentative reaching out, a timid attempt at closeness. And it had been over all too soon

The last moment her mind's eyes would show her was one of the last moments they had been together. She had held Emma's heart-broken face in her two hands and there had been not a word shared between them, but those which had been contained in the look they had given each other. Emma had never uttered the words, but Snow had felt her daughter's love in that gaze…

A dog barked and Snow jumped as it streaked past her and she looked up, her reverie broken. She breathed in and sighed deeply, reaching up a hand to wipe away the tears which had escaped.

Soon, she told herself, as she gathered her things and prepared to walk back to the hotel in the weak afternoon sun. Soon she would have the time to make Emma smile like _that_ again.

Like she had in the photo.

* * *

The lift opened and Snow walked out into the corridor of the apartment building, which led outside. As far as she could tell, it was still light enough that the streetlights hadn't yet turned on, but when she returned from the store, it would probably be dark.

She'd run out of a few things and thought that her first night in her new home was as good a time as any to replenish them. She'd already bought a few necessities, like sheets for the bed and towels for the bathroom. Almost every item of furniture she needed was already there, though the rooms still looked sparse. Not that it mattered. She would be the only one to see it.

She pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool air, descending the steps quickly. She glanced to her left, before turning to head toward the store.

She stopped at the sight. And did a double-take.

And stood there.

It took her brain several long moments to catch up to what her eyes were seeing. The brown-haired boy with a backpack slung over his shoulders, face upturned to speak. And the woman walking beside him, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail which swung back and forth with every step she took.

They were walking away from her down the street, moving in the opposite direction. Only their backs were visible to her. And they were already halfway down the street.

But, there was no mistake.

She had just over twenty four days left and she'd finally seen what she had been waiting to see for over a year. And it was practically the only moment she hadn't been actively looking for them. She wanted to laugh out loud. She wanted to sink to her knees and cry. In the end, she did neither.

Snow stood unmoving in the middle of the sidewalk, watching as the only two people in this land who mattered to her made their way down the street and eventually disappeared around the corner. She stayed there for long moments after they had gone, her heart feeling too full for words or eloquence of any kind.

After what seemed like a long time, Snow turned around slowly and made her way down the street to the store. She felt her mouth tilt up a little and she nodded her head slightly, hope rising in her anew.

* * *

The rustling of the plastic bag in her hand failed to mask the footsteps behind her. Footsteps followed intermittently by the rustling of material rubbing against itself. The footsteps weren't too close, but they were there.

Definitely there.

Snow didn't look back. Merely remained aware of where they were. Picked up her pace ever so slightly. Made a beeline for the curb so she could cross the street. She looked up at a streetlamp as she passed by, feeling a little reassured by its brightness in the rapidly darkening city. She took a little jogging step and jumped up onto the opposite sidewalk.

The footsteps continued behind her. Keeping pace with her. Almost in sync.

They were definitely following her.

Snow kept her eyes fixed on the darkened street ahead of her. She could see her building rise up not far from where she was. She desperately wanted to turn around, but didn't dare. For all the nights she had looked down on the city alive below her, this had to be the night in which the streets were all but deserted. Her flat shoes barely made a sound as she hurried along. In fact, she thought that the loudest noise on this entire street was her own breath exiting her mouth in short gasps.

She'd brought down enemies with her bow and arrow. Sent a soul-sucking wraith shrieking from her presence with fire and an aerosol can. Survive a burning room.

But, something simple like a mysterious person at her back? If it came to a test of physical strength, she wasn't sure she had enough.

"Stop."

The voice surprised her. She thought whoever it was would simply try to grab her. She'd even tensed a little in anticipation, ready to wrench herself away from the threat. She ignored the request and picked up her pace a little more.

"Stop. I have a knife."

Her heart lurched in her chest and she inadvertently slowed her pace. Her eyes darted around at the street, weighing her options in the microsecond of time she had. There was now no one on the street at all. She could scream, which would alert people in the surrounding buildings, but her attacker might stick her and leave her bleeding to death in the minutes it would take for anyone to come to her aid. She could surprise him by turning and fighting back, showing him a little of the bandit-of-the-forest she had inside her. But, again, he was the one with the knife and she had no idea how big he was.

Always know your enemy.

Or she could…

Snow slowed and finally stopped, still looking straight ahead, having decided against turning around. She looked out of the corner of one eye, wondering if this person would reveal themselves.

"Good choice," came the voice again. This time, she felt a hand on her arm, gripping her with a tight, almost painful grip. "In here." The arm pushed her toward a small alley between two buildings.

Snow planted her feet, resisting the push. Out here, on the street, there was light streaming from the streetlamps. Out here, the chances that all he wanted was her money were great indeed. He would wave the weapon and she would hand over her purse, once again trusting in Regina's spell that she could simply go to the bank and get a replacement credit card. That her identity wouldn't be wiped away the second her purse fell into the wrong hands. He would leave, run away down the street and then it would be over.

But, the alley was something else entirely.

She couldn't go in there. Couldn't go in there alone with someone of malicious intent. Someone who had a knife and probably wanted more than her money.

"Go," the voice growled, squeezing her arm.

She whimpered at the painful touch. It would likely result in bruises tomorrow. She could feel him putting his body into moving her now and her feet were starting to leave the ground and being forced forward in jolting lurches. As the alley loomed, she opened her mouth and turned her head slightly to shout…

His hand clapped over her mouth and then she felt it.

The cool metal of his blade against her cheek. Hot breath behind her ear.

"You were doing so well," he whispered harshly.

Finally, she pushed back, uttered muffled shrieks behind his hand, started struggling in earnest because she knew, somehow, that he wouldn't understand reason. Would not be satisfied with one hundred and thirty two dollars in cash and a VISA card.

She felt the moment the knife penetrated her skin, just under her cheekbone. It didn't go deep, merely broke the skin and drew blood, which she felt trickle in a tickling line down her face. She blinked her wide eyes rapidly and began thrashing her body around as much as she could, trying to give her elbows room to dig in somewhere sensitive. Perhaps she could loosen his grip, then turn around and somehow…

He threw his arms around her in a massive bearhug and all but dragged her into the alley, her legs practically trailing along the ground.

"Stop it!" he hissed, this time sticking the knife into her neck. Again, she felt the skin break under the pressure and forced herself to relax. Bide her time. If he thought her compliant, she might be able to surprise him at the right moment.

Mary Margaret Blanchard would probably have just obeyed his instructions and tried to pick up the pieces later.

But, Mary Margaret wasn't the only one here.

And there was no way Snow White was going to roll over and yield without one hell of a fight.

He relaxed his hold on her and turned her around. She clenched her fists, ready to throw them at his stomach, his groin, his nose. Anything within reach. She watched the knife as it glinted in the dim light. In fact, the knife and his eyes was just about all she could see.

"What do you want?" she whispered. Anything louder and he would hear the huskiness in her voice. The fear. Her entire body felt tense enough to snap in half.

His eyes narrowed and she realised he was smiling. Or smirking. Or leering. He took a step toward her. She instinctively stepped back. His eyes narrowed further, now slits in his shadowed face. He stepped again. So did she, a plan (no matter how foolish) having formed in her mind.

She just needed him to take one more step…

He stepped forward.

She lunged forward and reached, grabbing the hand with the knife. Her fingers gripped around his wrist, iron-like and he exclaimed in surprise. She pushed his arm back and he snarled.

"You're going to regret that, bitch!"

His other hand came up, curled in a fist, and slammed into the side of her face. Her cheek felt heavy and numb all at once, but she didn't go down, didn't loosen her grip on his knife-wielding hand. Instead, she opened her mouth…

"Help! Somebody!"

And then he surprised her.

He dropped the knife and it clattered on the ground. He twisted his wrist enough to wrench it out of her grip, grabbing her left shoulder and elbow in his hands. As she was turned, she saw that the wall was so much closer than she'd thought. And when it came rushing at her, she did nothing more than squeeze her eyes shut.

The actual impact escaped her. Or maybe her mind didn't register it. But, her knees did. Her legs did. She felt them buckle beneath her and she put out a hand as she slid down the wall. Felt her body curl around itself, her eyes slipping shut as an incredible need to sleep overcame her…

"_Hey, asshole!"_

The voice sounded like an echo inside her head. She sat with her side to the wall, her head leaning against it, her eyes half-open now, but seeing very little in the blurry darkness. She blinked slowly, trying to clear the haze that had lowered itself like a cloud over her mind. Her head throbbed from its impact with the hard brick of the wall.

"_Police! Drop the knife. Now!"_

Police? Had someone called them? Had someone seen her?

"_Drop it! On your knees!"_

For a moment, there was only scuffling and scraping coming from somewhere behind her. Then, the voice again.

"…_send a squad car… assault in progress…paramedics…"_

Metal clanked. Her attacker swore viciously.

"_You bitch! That's police brutality!"_

Bitch? Her rescuer was a woman?

"_If you think that's brutality, you won't like prison so much."_

Snow lifted her head slightly and straightened her legs out. Taking deep breaths through pursed lips, she placed a hand on the ground and slowly turned her body to face the alley.

"_Hey." _The voice seemed clearer now, no longer resounding around in her head. "Hey. Can you hear me?"

Snow frowned and squeezed her eyes shut, before opening them again. Blocks of shapes began clearing, began forming actual objects. She felt a presence loom in front of her and opened her mouth.

"Thank you," she whispered, raising a hand to her head to feel the forming lump.

The figure lowered itself to be level with her and she felt a hand on her knee.

"Don't worry, I'm a police officer. There's an ambulance on its way. Just try to stay still. You're going to be ok."

Snow lowered her head, wincing at the soreness in her neck. But, her eyes were stronger now. Things were in focus.

She looked up at the person in front of her.

And nearly lost her breath completely.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N To describe some of the feelings and thoughts in this chapter, I forced myself to watch the goodbye scene in 3x11. I know it's just a TV show, but the word 'feels' doesn't even cover it…**

**I use a very small line from 2x01.**

**Thanks for reading.**

Chapter 5

There was a small mottled groove in the dense wood of her kitchen table. Snow stared at it, rubbing it with one finger while holding her head up with her other hand. There was a clock on the wall in the passageway and she could hear it ticking away each passing second. Here in the silence, she was keenly aware of every moment.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

She felt like breaking into hysterical laughter, the uncontrollable kind that took ages to shake off. Or tears, the messy kind that made breathing through the nose impossible for the rest of the night. She kept oscillating between the two extremes at least twice every minute and had been for the last few hours or so. She was a woman who felt things and whose life experiences included many a heightened moment of powerful emotion.

She'd experienced the agony of her mother's death. And her father's.

She'd felt joy at the prospect of a lovely young woman filling the hole in her heart her mother had left behind.

She'd been through the fear and betrayal of realising that her life with that young woman had all been a lie.

She'd tasted the ecstasy of True Love.

The pain of separation.

The thrill of reunion.

The elation of motherhood. The nightmare it had become.

She wasn't, however, one of those people who collapsed into hysteria over every little thing. Being a royal of the court had taught her to wear emotion with dignity, though being an outlaw on the run had, in turn, made her passionate.

But, here and now, in the land without magic, in a strange city of steel and stone, she was a vortex of twisted and tumbling feelings.

There was probably more than one reason for that.

She'd been attacked. Grabbed on the street by some lowlife with cruelty in his heart. She remembered the feeling of his breath on her neck and his knife splitting the skin of her cheek. The rough growl of his voice. The egg on her head was sensitive as hell and throbbing like a son of a…

And she wasn't even prone to fits of bad language.

She'd lain on the gurney in the ambulance, rocking with the motion as it transported her through the city. She'd tried to insist she didn't need to go to hospital, but knew it was a losing battle when she'd barely been able to stand by herself. Perhaps she'd even fallen asleep. Or just closed her eyes for a moment…

She'd sat in the ER of some hospital, telling her story to a couple of police officers, while the doctor had cleaned her up and checked her out. Even she heard how useless her answers were.

No, she hadn't been living there long.

No, she didn't have any enemies.

No, it was too dark to give much of a description beyond his dark hair and intense eyes.

Yes, he'd spoken, but she didn't recognise the voice.

No, she didn't think she could pick him out of a line-up. Even though they already had him in custody. Which meant everything rode on the other witness.

The other witness...

In between questions, she'd second-guessed every decision she had made upon first hearing those steps on the sidewalk behind her. Hindsight brought clarity, but it could also be a curse. Could she have fought harder? Should she not have fought at all? Should she have cried out for help sooner?

But, all those things aside, as huge and impacting as they were…

All that paled into utter insignificance…when compared to the multitude of emotions that had hit her like a tsunami the moment she had lifted her eyes to her daughter's face. A face so familiar, she felt she could recognise every line, every freckle, every glint as the light hit her eyes.

"_You're going to be ok."_

She'd promised the same thing with nothing but her eyes as she'd bid Emma farewell, while the curse billowed towards Storybrooke's border. Her own heart had torn to pieces at the devastated look on Emma's face as she looked to her for a last-minute reprieve. For there to be another way, _any_ way, that they could stay together.

Twenty-eight years they had all been there, a secret town unknown to the world. It was always meant to blink out of existence, that much was true.

That was the thing about destiny.

"_You're going to be ok."_

She'd stared, probably with her mouth gaping open. She'd been waiting for this. For over a year, she had fantasised, imagined, dreamed of this very thing. Had ached for it. Had cried for it. Had kept a desperate hold of hope for it.

And all she could do was stare like a simpleton. Snow knew herself, knew what kind of person she was, but was finding it difficult to recognise that person right now, so foreign did her reactions feel.

Emma's face, so familiar to her, looked unchanged. Except, perhaps, more beautiful, though maybe that was the bias of a mother within her. Her expressions, her eyes, the turn of her mouth. It was all so beautifully the same. She wasn't sure if she had been expecting that. The undoing of the curse had altered everything else so much, why not Emma? Perhaps in some way, she'd thought Emma would look happier. Free-er. As if unburdened by a past consisting of abandonment, turmoil and the weight of being saviour to an entire people. Simply living her happily ever after.

Somehow, the only thing different was the lack of recognition in her eyes. There was not the expression of affection, of familiarity. Only the polite concern of a stranger.

Just under twenty four days left to change that.

"_My name is Emma. Can you tell me your name?"_

_You know my name_, she'd wanted to reply. _You know me._ She wanted to tell her how she'd carried her inside her for 9 months, singing to her, talking to her, dreaming of the moments she would treasure. Her first word. First steps. How she'd held her in her arms the moments after she was born, feeling so _full_ of life herself that the moment had finally arrived…

"_Mary Margaret. My name is Mary Margaret."_

She wanted to tell her that even before the curse had been broken, she'd felt something, a pull towards this blonde woman, for no explicable reason. That she'd felt a spark of _existence_ in her soul for the first time in her shadowy memory at the sight of her. That the baby who had filled her with joy so many years ago was the same woman she wanted to keep with her always, but had to let go because her happiness was paramount. That every mistake she had made that Emma had paid for, had been only out of a desire to give her the best chance possible.

"_OK, Mary Margaret. Just hang on for a few more minutes. There's an ambulance on its way."_

Of course, the mention of the ambulance had brought her back to the moment with a jolt. Her throbbing head and the sting of the cuts on her neck and cheek sought to remind her that she'd come close to ruining all their dreams and hopes.

The thought of that almost-failure had made her freeze a little inside.

That if she'd died at this man's hand, it was conceivable that no one would ever have known what had happened to her. Regina would have opened the portal at the appointed time and David and Ruby and everyone she cared about would have waited anxiously, hopes fading as the time ran out.

And as the blood dribbled out of her dying body, Snow would have mourned the moment when Emma's memory returned and she realised how close she had been to the one who loved her the most…

Tears squeezed from Snow's eyes and dropped with soft _pats_ onto the kitchen table. She blinked as she returned to the present and reached up to wipe at her eyes. It had been too close. Much too close.

Emma had disappeared shortly after that first meeting with a very brief farewell, replaced by the two other police officers who took over running the show. They'd brought her back home, too. Home to the darkness of her apartment. Back to the solitude of her own thoughts.

This was not turning out anything like she had imagined. Snow hadn't conceived of a life more frightening than the one she'd left. But, it left her with an unshakeable determination. Her life had been filled with second chances, both for her and for the people around her. She believed so strongly in chances. It probably went hand-in-hand with her unwavering ability to hope in all things. This, now, was her second chance.

Now that she'd found Emma, she wouldn't stop until her daughter was in her arms again.

* * *

Forget sleep. It was a hopeless fancy tonight.

She needed air desperately. And while it wouldn't be the pure, clean air of the Enchanted Forest, it would still be crisp and cool, enough to clear her head and empty it of at least some of the thoughts rushing through it.

Snow stuck her leg through the window off to the side of the kitchen and heaved herself out onto the fire escape. In reality, it was nothing more than a glorified metal ledge, with a set of stairs running down the side. Still, it was as good a balcony as she could expect. She clambered out, wincing as the metal rattled much too loudly for the lateness of the hour.

She stood and stretched, bending her back to right and left, loosening what had until now been so tense. She exhaled slowly, tilting her face to the sky. It was strange just how loud the quietness could be. Snow stepped forward and grabbed the metal railing, leaning slightly to rest her forearms on it.

As the claustrophobia of the apartment subsided, she allowed herself to drift away. For how long, she didn't know. Away from the fire escape, from the fear of what this night had brought, to better times. Stories around the fire. Hot cocoa at Granny's. Memories from two lives lived.

_We are both…_

"Hey."

She started at the voice coming from above and to her right. She turned her head and raised her eyes, peering into the semi-darkness, trying to locate the owner of the voice.

"I thought it was you." The voice spoke again and Snow's chest constricted and her heart beat faster as she recognised it.

She heard scuffling and clanking until a head appeared over a railing a storey above her, long blonde hair dangling over the side, though the features of her face were in shadow.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." She raised a hand in apology. "It's Emma. We met tonight. After your…"

Snow turned around so her body faced the window and leaned back against the railing. Sometimes the outcomes of her fierce hope surprised even herself.

"Yes. Emma." She almost closed her eyes as the name rolled off her tongue. Did she sound desperate as she spoke her daughter's name? "Uh…I'm Mary Margaret."

"I remember. How are you?" Emma asked, lifting her arms to brace them on her railing as she leaned further over. "Did the doctor clear you? You had a pretty nasty bump on the head there."

Snow attempted a smile, though she assumed it looked more like a pained grimace.

"Yeah. I might have a headache for awhile, but I'll survive. I…didn't know you lived in this building." She felt discomfort at the lie pressing on her gut, but forced her tone to remain normal. If Emma indeed hadn't changed that much, it wouldn't take a lot to make her suspicious.

Emma nodded, gesturing vaguely behind her.

"Yeah. That's why I was around to help you out. I was on my way home. I heard your shout and came running."

In the heat of everything that had happened, Snow suddenly realised she had forgotten something. Something so important.

"Oh! You saved…Thank you for coming to my rescue. I don't honestly know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

_You saved me. _That's what she had been going to say before she had cut herself off. She didn't quite know why she had stopped herself from saying it. Maybe it felt too intimate to share that phrase with someone who saw her as no more than a stranger. A phrase that had meant so much to her in the past. Maybe she wanted to wait for that spark of recognition, for that fierce fire Emma had for family.

"Hey, you're welcome. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time," Emma replied. Her face relaxed into a brief smile.

There was a pause. An awkward silence threatened to develop. Snow's mind raced.

"Can I buy you breakfast?" she blurted out. "To thank you?" It had been the first thing that had popped into her mind. A way in. A chance to get closer to Emma before she tried bringing her memory back.

She needed Emma's trust. And for that, she needed Emma's time.

Emma chuckled briefly at her rushed invitation.

"Uh, sure. I leave for work pretty early though. I eat at about 6:30. Is that ok?"

Snow nodded quickly.

"That's fine. I doubt I'll be sleeping much tonight. Why don't we meet at the diner across the road? I saw some bear claws there the other day."

_I saw some bear claws there the other day…_

Snow felt the mistake as soon as it came out of her mouth. Stupid! She hadn't meant to say that. Shouldn't have said that. Wasn't supposed to know that. She froze, trying to keep her face open and her breathing even. Would it be taken as a silly coincidence? Or be a warning to Emma's suspicious nature that she should know that about her? Was it simple enough to be so innocent?

Her heart started beating again when she heard Emma chuckle.

"Bear claws are the greatest, aren't they?" she acknowledged.

Snow nodded. She'd never had a bear claw in Storybrooke, usually stuck to things like pancakes. Time to branch out.

"Yeah. So, uh, tomorrow morning then. Bright and early. What kind of work do you do? I think you said you were a police officer, but things were kind of hectic…"

Emma lifted her arms off the railing and moved her head from side to side, as if working the kinks out of her neck.

"No, that's right. I'm a detective with the NYPD. I specialise in missing persons."

Snow smiled involuntarily.

_You found us._

It was so completely serendipitous. So obvious. So Emma.

"Anyway, I'm going to head in," Emma said, hooking a thumb toward her window. "I'll see you in the morning."

Snow nodded.

"Great. It was nice meeting you. Again." She watched as Emma waved a hand, before turning away and disappearing from the edge of the railing. "Emma," she whispered to herself, turning around and looking out at the night once more.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thanks, as usual, for reading. This chapter is quite talk-y. I'm not usually big on lots of dialogue, but it's kind of necessary here.**

**I've used a couple of lines from Lost Girl.**

Chapter 6

She was nervous. Regardless of how she tried to calm herself or convince herself that she felt no anxiety whatsoever, the fact remained. Though she talked herself into believing that Emma would be comfortable with her despite any kind of memory alterations or changes in her history, the truth was still there underneath her hammering heart.

She was nervous. The chemical reactions in her own body betrayed this. The feeling of something lodged in her throat. The need to keep breathing deeply. The dryness of her mouth.

It was 6:25am.

Of course, she'd been up for ages, ready to go for at least half an hour. At least she'd been able to keep herself busy with the routine of showering and doing her hair and tidying up. And before that…well.

She'd stayed outside for a good hour after Emma had said goodnight, far too hyped to sleep after the evening's events. Strangely, the city had picked up its pace again. It was so much less predictable than Storybrooke. And the Enchanted Forest. She'd climbed back through the window sometime after 1am and forced herself to get into bed, but had simply lain there, staring up at the ceiling, phantom conversations running through her mind. She'd played out the breakfast conversation she would soon have with her daughter and, in her more fantastical imaginings, could see Emma believing her story straight away. She would, of course, be sceptical at first, but then she would look at Snow and somehow just…know. She'd know it was her mother she was looking at.

Almost immediately Snow had laughed bitterly to herself because it was such a ridiculous notion. They had lived together for the better part of a year and neither of them had had an inkling of the truth, no matter how many times they'd heard it from Henry. The whole purpose of the curse had been to withhold their true selves from them.

So, she'd brushed off the foolish hope and started from scratch. Questions that Emma might ask ran through her mind and she agonised over how much actual truth she should reveal. She couldn't lie, she refused to lie, but the whole truth was beyond them both just yet.

What, for example, would she say if Emma asked if she was married? She was in this city alone and carried a driver's licence proclaiming her to be from out of state, enough to indicate that any claim of marriage would seem strange. But, she _was_ married, what's more, to her True Love, to the one person in any realm she was meant to be with. To the outsider, it might seem like a harmless lie, to say she wasn't married, a lie that wouldn't even matter once this was all over and memories were regained. It would simply be a means to an end.

But, she abhorred deception even when done for reasons seemingly justifiable. Her heart had always warned her, guided her in this and she had held true to it whenever possible.

The memory of how things had played out with Cora still haunted her sometimes. As had the dark spot on her own heart, born from her choice to deceive. To manipulate.

And how would she answer the question of children? She had been forced to deny that part of herself for nearly three decades, though she imagined some parts of herself that even she couldn't feel had ached anyway, for a hole she hadn't known how to fill.

What about her childhood? Daughter to a king and queen, step-daughter to a woman who became the enemy she had spent years running from.

The realities of who she was had no place here in this land. A land that was never meant to play host to characters from what the world saw as fairytales, stories of make-believe.

Some might say she was simply overthinking the whole thing.

Those people had never crossed realms in search of a missing piece of their heart.

Snow blinked and her eyes slid to the clock on the microwave.

6:32am.

She cursed herself and leapt to her feet, grabbing her sweater and keys before making for the front door.

* * *

Emma was already there, sitting at a table by the window, twirling a packet of sugar in her fingers, her left leg jiggling up and down. Snow watched as her eyes lifted and she spotted her, a friendly smile breaking out across her face.

She saw herself in that smile. She saw David. She even saw Henry.

Finally. There it was.

Some inkling as to whether Emma was so very different in this new world she inhabited. The old Emma, the Storybrooke Emma (was there such a thing or were they simply the same being?) was not given to unexpected smiles. _That_ Emma dared not express happiness for the fear that it would all disappear in a puff of smoke.

This Emma was smiling at her after one traumatic meeting and a short conversation with her.

It gave her hope and made her sad all at once.

Snow let a smile light up her own face and made her way toward the table.

"Hi. I'm sorry I'm a little late," she said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

Emma's smile turned crooked and she shook her head slightly.

"No, it's fine. Really. I wasn't waiting long at all."

Snow nodded and looked around the table. She felt the awkwardness begin to creep back in and hastily sought to sweep it away.

"So, I guess we should order. You still want that bearclaw?"

Emma's eyes lit up and she nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely."

"Coffee?" Snow prompted, again receiving a nod. "Great. Back in a sec." She stood up and made her way between the tables to the counter. A waitress at the till spotted her and pulled out a notepad and pen. Snow ordered two coffees and two bearclaws. She thought it might seem strange not to, given she had made a big deal of them last night. The waitress slid over a table number and Snow turned, heading back to their table.

"So, I'm guessing you didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Emma remarked as Snow settled herself at the table again, placing the table number between them.

And again, there it was. An immediate, natural jump to the personal. Something the Emma she knew didn't come to lightly. Something the Emma she knew slowly worked her way into.

Snow huffed a slight laugh.

"Yeah, it was a pretty…crazy night." _In ways you couldn't even dream. _She looked earnestly across the table at Emma. Some things didn't change, though. Emma's instinct to help. Protect. Save. "I can't even tell you how grateful I am. I feel like I owe you my life." She gestured to the diner around them. "Breakfast doesn't say it quite how I'd like."

Emma looked up as the waitress appeared, placing their order in front of each of them.

"Well, I'm a sucker for a bearclaw, so I'm definitely not complaining."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments. Snow took a bite of the pastry, her very first. As it filled her mouth, she chewed carefully. Perhaps it wasn't something she'd like to eat every day, but it wasn't bad if one had a sweet tooth.

"I don't think you're from the city," Emma said casually. Her tone held no accusation. It was merely an innocent question, an attempt to break the ice. She sat almost slouched in her chair, one hand on her cup, the other raised with pastry in hand.

That image was one of those burned on Snow's memory. Mornings at Granny's with a hot cocoa…

Snow licked her lips, swallowing hard. She felt as if she had spent hours preparing for a test, but still had no answers to the questions. She cleared her throat, trying desperately to sound natural.

"How could you tell?" she offered in reply.

Emma tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she looked at Snow.

"Not sure," she said thoughtfully. "People who've spent their lives in the city just have a…way…about them, I guess. A…cynicism. An aggression. You don't have that. At least it doesn't seem like you do."

Snow found herself laughing softly.

"I don't know if that makes me sound good or just like a soft touch."

Emma's eyes widened.

"Oh! No, I didn't mean anything by it. It was just an observation. I meant it in a good way." She shrugged bashfully and Snow caught a glimpse of _her_ Emma again.

Snow rubbed her sticky fingers together and picked up a napkin.

"I'm not offended. You're kind of right. About everything. I haven't been in the city long and I guess I'm not very cynical. I like to believe in more than that."

"Always seeing the good in people, then?" Emma chuckled.

Snow nodded, smiling ruefully.

"Something like that." She saw the opening and seized the chance. The chance to find out exactly what Regina's magic had done. What exactly was the 'good life' she had given her?

"So, what about you? Are you a city girl then?" Snow asked, forcibly stopping herself from leaning forward to listen intently. They weren't close. They weren't mother and daughter. They weren't even friends. Yet.

Emma raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly a couple of times.

"Yeah. I've been in New York for years. In this neighbourhood, in fact. I wasn't born here, though."

It seemed to Snow that Emma had added that last part after a slight internal debate, as if she anticipated the question that would follow and others after that. Her eyes dropped, away from Snow's, and she lifted her coffee cup to her mouth, her brow furrowed slightly.

No time to shy away from questions that could tell her so much.

"Oh? Don't tell me you weren't originally from the city," Snow pressed, deliberately keeping her tone light. She was aware, suddenly, that the focus had shifted right onto Emma. They both seemed aware of it and of the atmosphere that had descended around their little corner of the diner. It wasn't awkward, nor was it uncomfortable. But, it had taken on an intensity that hadn't been there two minutes ago.

Snow wondered if it had something to do with the answer Emma was about to give her.

"Uh, no, I'm not from New York." Emma stopped and licked her lips, suddenly looking years younger to Snow's eyes.

Snow's heart lurched in sympathy as she realised she knew where this was going. Knew all too well. Regina's spell had been specific to Emma and Henry. Together. Henry was just shy of adolescence, which probably left a little under twenty years of Emma's life unchanged by the spell. She thought of all the things Emma had told her as Mary Margaret. The foster homes. The search for her parents. The feelings of complete and total abandonment at the loss of most of the people she had ever dared to care about. Things that had haunted Snow's dreams on more than one occasion.

And she thought of Emma's confessions in Neverland.

_Just a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would._

If Pan's Tree had ever had a chance to attack the regret inside her, she would have died from that alone. The weight of that decision, made all those years ago, continued to bury her, crush her. Sitting face to face with Emma on that rotting log, watching the heartbreak and sheer _longing _in her eyes, Snow had been stripped of all reasons, all justifications for the choice she and David had made. But, it had made the truth all the more apparent to her.

Yes, Emma was a grown woman. She was independent and tough and didn't take crap from anyone. But, in the quiet of a forest clearing, when all the world had faded away, one thing had remained.

Emma wanted, _needed_ a mother. It was written all over her face.

_You were an orphan. It's my job to change that._

"I'm not sure where I was actually born," Emma continued quietly, staring out the window. "Only where I was found." She paused momentarily. "And I'm not sure why I even told you that."

Snow grappled with something to say, to bring them back to some common ground, which might make Emma tell her even more.

"Well, I'm from Maine," she offered. "A little town in the middle of nowhere. If you don't have the right map, it wouldn't even register." That much was true.

Emma's head snapped towards her. Her eyes registered surprise.

"Maine, really? That's where I was found." The coincidence seemed to shake her from the dark cloud threatening her. Seemed to loosen her tongue. "Since then, I've been all over. The foster system will do that. Anyway, that's kind of why I became a police officer."

Snow nodded, intrigued by the approach of a new story.

"I searched for…my parents…for years. I mean, I looked everywhere, exhausted every avenue, called in every favour. I know having little or no official record makes it all but impossible to get information, but I had…ways and means." She smiled wryly.

The waitress stopped at their table again, proffering the coffee pot. Both women extended their arms, cups at the ready.

"So you became a police officer to find your parents?" Snow recapped when they were alone again.

Emma shrugged.

"At first, yes. But, everything was a dead end. It was as if they simply dumped me on the side of the road and vanished off the face of the earth. So, I turned my attention to finding other people's family and that's how I ended up at Missing Persons."

"Is it as difficult as it seems?" Snow asked. "Finding people?"

Emma huffed a slight, humourless chuckle.

"Sometimes, yes. Most people are found pretty quickly if it's a cry for help or attention. Those that are more serious about disappearing intentionally take a little longer, but they eventually leave a trail. With missing children, it's often a custody fight. But, the more sinister disappearances are a lot harder to track. And sometimes, people just don't want to be found. So, we never find them."

Snow nodded. She knew very well about not wanting to be found. She'd been quite the expert for years in the forest.

"OK, enough about me and my sad story," Emma grinned crookedly and shook her head, as if shaking off the cobwebs that had wrapped their way around her. "What about you?"

Snow opened her mouth. Even she wasn't sure what was about to come out.

"My, uh, my parents are both dead. My mother died when I was only a child and my father before I reached adulthood."

She couldn't recall ever having told Emma so directly that she was an orphan and, so, the look of surprise and sadness on her daughter's face caught her off guard.

"Geez, I'm sorry," Emma replied, blowing out a breath. She shook her head slowly, digesting the information. "Were you close?"

Snow smiled wistfully.

"Yes. Especially to my father." She let the silence linger for a moment. "I guess I have a sad story too."

Emma smiled sympathetically.

"We are the very essence of dysfunction," she acknowledged.

Snow chuckled. That was one way of putting it.

"And what do you do?" Emma changed the subject, as if wanting to move away from such heavy conversation.

"I'm…a teacher," Snow replied. She felt a momentary twinge for that lost life. Mary Margaret Blanchard, Henry's teacher. "But, I'm not teaching at the moment."

"What about family?" Emma inquired.

Snow saw her glance down at her watch.

"Uh, no. I'm here alone." She didn't like the way even those few words sat inside her like a heavy stone. A lie of omission was really no better than any other kind of lie. "Do you need to get going?"

Emma looked rueful and nodded.

"Yeah. It's almost 7:30. I start work at 8. But, I enjoyed…this." She looked intently at Snow for a moment. "I don't really socialise much. So, thank you."

Snow returned her gaze, feeling hopeful. It almost seemed as if Emma didn't want to go.

"Maybe we could do it again soon," she suggested, bracing herself for the response.

Emma smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be…yeah." Her head tilted, as if considering. "What are you doing tonight? You could come up to my apartment for dinner."

"You cook?" The words slipped out before Snow could stop them.

Emma narrowed her eyes good-humouredly.

"You don't think I can?"

Snow laughed genuinely.

"Oh, no. I'm sure you are quite capable." She briefly wondered if that was Regina's doing. "I would love to come over. Shall I bring something?"

Emma shook her head.

"No. Just yourself. Though there will be three of us. My son was at a sleepover last night, but he'll be back tonight."

Snow smiled widely. Her second meeting with Henry.

"You have a son?"

Emma nodded, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah. His name is Henry. He's smart and completely amazing."

"Well, I look forward to meeting him. Now, I should let you get to work." She stood and Emma followed suit. She tried not to stare as Emma put on her jacket and picked up her belongings. "I'm just going to pay the bill. But, I'll see you tonight," she said as Emma looked up.

"Great. I'm in apartment 6A," she replied. "Come around anytime after 6." She looked down at the table. "Thanks. For breakfast, I mean."

Snow nodded.

"Well, thanks for saving my neck."

She watched Emma exit the diner, her spirits soaring. It had gone even better than she could have hoped. She now knew a little more about how much the magic had changed Emma's memory. And their shared loss had created something of a connection, Snow was sure.

And now, she had another chance to see Emma. Spend time with her. Get closer to her.

Emma seemed happy enough. She obviously adored Henry, that much was apparent even from her brief mention of him. And she was in a job she clearly cared about.

But, beneath it all…

There was something…

The pain of everything before Henry was still there, buried deep down. Henry had provided a salve to that wound on her heart, but hadn't healed it completely. Before they had been separated again, David had said Emma could have the life she always wanted. Regina had wanted to gift her with good memories. She herself had said a happy ending didn't always turn out the way one thought. But, perhaps they had all been too focused on Emma's memories with Henry and not enough on Emma's memories of everything that had come before.

_You were an orphan. It's my job to change that._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Sorry that took a little longer than normal. I lost my mojo for a bit. Then I saw 3x12 and it reignited the spark, which will require some action in a few chapter's time (you know how I love action).**

**Thanks for reading!**

Chapter 7

_Together, they walked down the busy street. It was such a beautiful day, she could hardly keep from smiling like a fool. The sun was at its finest, glowing over everything and everyone, warming from the inside out. Voices around them, all raised in happy timbres, excited simply to be outside in the magnificent afternoon._

_Henry ran ahead, dodging and weaving his way through the crowd, calling back to them in a voice that sounded more child-like than Snow remembered. So carefree. She laughed at his enthusiasm and shared an affectionate look with Emma._

_Emma looked happy. Happy with her mother and her son._

_Snow's heart swelled with joy and she closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the feeling…_

_A cold breeze blew over her face._

_Her eyes opened to see the shadows, the darkness that had passed over the sun. _

_Everyone had disappeared. Everyone but herself and Emma. They stood in the middle of the eerily empty sidewalk and Snow turned around slowly, looking for…_

_Something._

_Some_one_._

"_Hello, my dear," a voice drawled. It was a soothing voice, gentle and attractive. Seductive. But, listening hard, Snow could detect an edge of underlying malice._

_Snow knew who it belonged to without ever having laid eyes on her and turned to face the other side of the road._

_The Witch stood on the opposite curb, dressed in black. Her face was tilted down, surrounded by shadows, partially hidden by a large black hat. Snow could not make out her features._

"_What do you want?" Snow called out angrily. "Leave my family alone!"_

_The Witch stepped forward. One step. Two. Three. Snow could feel that she was smiling despite being unable to see her._

"_What do I want?" the Witch asked in mock curiosity. "Why, my dear, I want your daughter. I'm going to take her away from you."_

_Emma suddenly let out a strangled cry and sank to her knees, clutching at her throat as she gasped for air. Snow's eyes widened in horror and she dropped beside Emma, helplessly watching as she struggled to breathe._

"_Mom!" Emma choked. "Mom!"_

_Was she forever doomed to hear that longed-for title only when their lives were on the line?_

_Snow looked up, but the Witch had disappeared, her gleeful cackle lingering in the air._

"_Emma," she whispered, stricken. She turned back to her daughter, but she, too, was suddenly gone. The empty street yawned in front of her, but she looked behind, distracted by a dull roar…_

_The portal!_

_Snow leaped to her feet, head turning as she looked about wildly. A bright purple glow flickered from a side street down the block and she ran toward it, panting as she pumped her arms and legs faster. She turned the corner at full pelt to see the portal spin and twist itself out. The purple light vanished. The street was again empty._

_Snow stared at the empty space, eyes wide and lungs bursting. She had utterly failed in everything. Henry was gone. Emma was gone. Her only means of returning to the Enchanted Forest was gone. How could it have all gone so wrong? She put a hand out to brace herself against the wall, but the strength in her legs gave out and she sank to the ground, her face contorted as a wave of grief and sorrow buffeted her…_

Snow's eyes snapped open and she blinked rapidly, unable to see past the film of tears covering them. She raised her head slightly and darted her eyes around the room, feeling the tears leak out and slowly make their way down her face. She saw the dressing table over by the wall. The armchair next to the door. A coat hanging on the door knob. Snow drew in a shaking breath.

She was still here, in her apartment.

It had only been a dream.

Just a dream.

She flopped back on the bed and ran a hand over her face, heaving a sigh as if to expel the unpleasant feelings left behind by the images in her head.

It wasn't the only bad dream she'd had lately. Oddly enough, they'd begun the night she had gone to have dinner with Emma and Henry. And that had been well over a week ago.

Perhaps it was the clock that constantly ticked inside her head. The clock that constantly reminded her that she didn't have forever to accomplish what she needed to. That all of their fates rested on her succeeding.

Sixteen days left. Sixteen days left. Sixteen days left.

Sixteen days left and she was well on her way to a quite wonderful friendship with Emma. But, nowhere near a mother/daughter relationship. Nowhere near restored.

She'd gone to dinner that night intent on feeling out just how likely Emma and Henry were to believe in something as crazy as fairytales and Enchanted Forests, in magic and distant realms. How likely it would be that she could try reasoning, explaining, convincing them of their true lives.

By the end of that night, she had received her answer loud and clear.

It had saddened her to see Henry, the one who had always believed the most, who had had the heart of the _truest_ believer, seem completely unmoved by the idea of magic, of true love. She remembered all too well his earnest appeals, his fervent declarations. His simple faith. But, that little boy was gone and her task had become all the more difficult.

If only the memory potion had been a viable option, though Snow imagined she would have had to resort to slipping it into Emma's drink like some kind of weird stalker. That option had come up in their planning and it had filled them all with hope. But, the ingredients for that potion were rare and their options had been few. They'd lost a messenger who had been sent to acquire them, presumably captured by the Witch or one of her soldiers. The decision had been made that it simply wasn't worth risking a second life over.

Leaving Snow with the option of asking casual, vague questions about magic. Questions that had brought her amused looks from Emma and Henry.

No, they didn't believe. That much was clear.

But, that didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed herself in their company. That didn't mean that she didn't completely and utterly love them both. And feel the stab inside at every realisation that they couldn't look at her with anything resembling love.

Not yet.

Snow heaved another sigh and slid her legs over the side of the bed, standing up and walking to the door. She entered the kitchen and made her way over to the window, noting the time blinking on the microwave. 10:45pm. She'd been asleep barely half an hour. She placed her hands on the edge and pushed up, feeling the window slide upwards. When there was enough space, she bent over and climbed out onto the fire escape. She felt irritable, mostly with herself, and frustrated. She was a resourceful woman! She'd outwitted Regina for years in the old days, evading capture on what felt like a weekly basis. She was a Queen! She had led an entire kingdom with David by her side.

_It's not over. Not by a long shot. I'll find a way._

"You're going to have a stroke if you think that hard."

Snow's head snapped up at the sound of the voice and she felt her face break out into a smile.

Emma leaned out further over the rail, grinning widely. It was a smile that warmed Snow inside whenever she saw it.

"I called your name three times. Heavy thoughts?"

Snow shook her head quickly, letting out a small laugh.

"I was distracted, I guess. Sorry."

Emma waved away the apology.

"Are you still up or have you been to bed already?" she asked.

Snow stretched her neck to one side, then the other.

"I was asleep. Not anymore," she replied.

Emma tilted her head slightly, looking thoughtful.

"Give me two minutes," she said and disappeared from Snow's view.

Snow frowned, puzzled, but waited patiently for Emma to return. A few minutes later, she heard a sharp rap on her front door. Snow narrowed her eyes, but lifted her leg, climbing back through the window and padding over to the door. She craned her neck to look through the peephole, then opened the door.

Emma held up two glasses and a bottle of wine, smiling crookedly.

"I've already opened it, but you could help me finish it?" she said, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Snow stood back and let Emma walk inside, before shutting the door behind her. She led the way back to the kitchen and through the window once more. She turned, taking the glasses and bottle, allowing Emma to join her on the balcony.

"Where's Henry?" she asked, as she lay an old blanket on the cold ground.

"Sleepover," Emma replied. "I swear that kid spends his weekends in other people's beds more than his own."

They sat on the blanket with their backs to the wall and Emma poured them both a glass of wine.

"I haven't seen you for a couple of days," Emma remarked, before taking a sip from her glass. "I wondered if everything was ok." Her tone was casual, but Snow caught the hint of an underlying emotion.

It was true. Snow had laid low for a couple of days. She and Emma had been spending a lot of time together, as much as Emma's job would allow. They had talked easily about so many things. It had been with mixed emotions that she had listened to Emma talk about her life here, about her job, about Henry and how well he was doing. She asked questions, mostly because she was curious and interested, but also to steer as much as she could away from talking about herself.

Pulling back had been a conscious decision. A chance to test the waters, to see how far things had come in the short time they had known each other.

_She misses me,_ Snow realised. _She misses me, but she doesn't know why. _

"Yeah, I've just been…" Snow's voice trailed off.

Emma looked over at her.

"Are you ok?"

Snow smiled faintly.

_I have nightmares. You don't know who I am. I need to get your memory back. I'm running out of time._

"I'm fine."

"It's ok if you're not," Emma said. "It takes some time to deal with what happened. You experienced a trauma."

Snow hummed in acknowledgement. She let the silence stretch out, wondering if there was more to Emma's presence tonight than a shared bottle of wine.

Emma leaned her head back against the wall with a sigh.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Snow nodded immediately.

"Sure."

Emma closed her eyes briefly.

"Do you ever…" She opened her eyes and stared up at the sky. "Do you ever feel like you were made for a different life?"

Snow measured her words. _You have no idea, Emma._

"I think that even if you had a chance to do things differently, it wouldn't change who you are."

Emma considered her words.

"Like if my parents hadn't given me up? Or if I _had_ given Henry up? I almost did," she admitted. "I was in jail and I was just a kid myself and I thought there was no way I could take care of a kid. I thought someone else would be his best chance." She smiled with watery eyes. "But, then I saw him. And I held him and suddenly I didn't want to let him go." Her smile slowly faded. "Would I still be me if I had given him up? I have dreams sometimes…"

She stopped abruptly and Snow looked over at her, holding her breath.

"What kind of dreams?" she asked carefully.

Emma swallowed and swirled the wine in her glass.

"I sometimes dream that I did give him up. And things never got any better for me. And sometimes I dream that I finally meet my parents…but I wake up feeling like it's too late."

As Emma ran a hand over her face, Snow's mind raced. How long had Emma been having these dreams? Since she had left Storybrooke? Since she had met Snow? Were Emma's true memories trying to push through somehow? It didn't seem possible, but magic was always unpredictable.

"I don't know what it would've been like if other choices had been made," Snow said quietly, reaching over to take hold of Emma's free hand. "But, it wouldn't change who you are inside." Her heart pounded as Emma's eyes locked onto hers, looking desperate and scared. It reminded her of the way Emma had looked when they had talked on that log in Neverland. Snow shifted on the blanket so she was facing Emma and spoke to her daughter. And she let her words escape unchecked, feeling the freedom of speaking honestly, though the woman next to her would not know the true meaning of her words.

"You're strong and kind and you have a way of drawing people to you. The pain you've experienced has made you compassionate and understanding. You guard your heart, but those people you let in should count themselves lucky to be chosen. Whatever life you were made for, Emma, you would be the same amazing person you are in this one."

Snow closed her mouth and swallowed back the thickness rising in her throat. It wouldn't do to cry, no matter how much she wanted to.

Emma stared at her for a long time, a myriad of emotions swirling in her green eyes.

"Who are you?" she finally whispered. "I feel like I know you, Mary Margaret. Like I've known you for so long. That's never happened to me before. I feel like I want to tell you things. Half of what I've told you, I've never told anyone! You have a way…" She stopped speaking, shaking her head in puzzlement.

Snow smiled and squeezed her hand, before pulling back and resting against the wall once more.

"I feel like I've known you for years, too, Emma." It was possibly the truest thing she'd uttered since she'd arrived in New York.

The spell of the moment was broken by Emma's cell phone. She lifted her hips, easing the phone out of her pocket and answered it.

From the way Emma was speaking, it had to be Henry.

"_Have you been sick?"_

"_Does she have any ginger beer or lemonade?"_

"_Do you wanna come home?"_

After a few minutes, Emma hung up and turned to Snow.

"Henry's on his way home. His friend's dad is dropping him off. Must have picked up some bug, he's been puking his guts up." She got slowly to her feet, picking up the wine bottle.

Snow stood and handed over her glass, then reached down to grab the blanket, folding it over her arm. They climbed back into the kitchen.

"Well, I hope he feels better soon," Snow said as they walked to the door. "These bugs usually take a couple of days to get over."

Emma nodded, then stopped suddenly.

"Crap! I'm working tomorrow." She ran a hand through her hair. "My sitter is out of town for the weekend, but Henry was supposed to play softball in the morning and then go to a birthday party in the afternoon, so I didn't need her." She rubbed her forehead, considering and then ruling out options in seconds.

"Well," Snow said, "If he's not better in the morning, I can always come up and look after him 'til you get home. It wouldn't be any trouble."

Emma seemed to sag in relief and looked grateful.

"Would you really? That would be amazing! Are you sure? I could always take a personal day…"

Snow waved her off.

"Henry's a great kid. No trouble at all. Just let me know in the morning if you need me."

Emma heaved a sigh as she reached out and opened the front door. To Snow's complete disbelief, she suddenly turned and stepped into Snow's space, her arms encircling her in an unexpected hug. Snow closed her eyes at the contact, her eyes burning and her lips turning upward at how close Emma suddenly was.

"It's nice to have someone to count on," Emma whispered, squeezing briefly before pulling back, looking slightly bashful at the odd display of affection. "I'll see how things are in the morning. Thank you." She smiled briefly, genuinely, and turned, walking down the corridor towards the stairs.

Snow watched Emma until she disappeared around the corner and then shut the door, leaning against it, suddenly feeling light with optimism.

They couldn't help but be drawn to each other, just as they had in Storybrooke. Even without magic, or a Book or a means to break a curse, they found a way.

* * *

"I think my hands are cramping up."

The pale, almost-teenager sitting next to her grinned and pushed the pause button on their video game.

"Losing so much will do that to you," he retorted, picking up his glass of ginger beer and taking a sip.

Snow pretended to be affronted, even as she flexed her fingers.

"Hey, I almost beat you that time!" she shot back good-naturedly as she watched him place the glass back on the table. "How are you feeling anyway?"

Henry shrugged and sat back, resting the game controller on his lap.

"Better, I think. I haven't needed to stick my head in the toilet bowl for awhile now." He stared at the TV screen.

Snow stood up.

"Do you want some of those crackers Emma bought? You should probably try and eat something." When he nodded, she went over to the kitchen and grabbed the box of crackers and a side plate, shaking a few of the biscuits onto it.

"Do you have kids, Mary Margaret?" Henry asked, as he took the plate she offered him. "You'd make a good mom."

Snow sat back on the couch.

"Thank you. But, my apartment is very empty, Henry," she replied. It still felt awkward to lie. Vague answers didn't make it much better.

"Mom said you're not married," Henry continued, his teeth snapping a cracker in half.

Snow nodded slowly.

"I guess I'm waiting for my prince to come," she replied lightly.

He chuckled.

"So you believe in True Love and dreams coming true and wishes and all that stuff?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"You don't?" she asked in return. "At least for your Mom?"

Henry appeared to consider her words.

"I don't know," he finally answered, nodding thoughtfully. "Mom hasn't had many boyfriends since my dad left her. None that she wanted me to meet anyway." He looked over at her and looked almost wistful, Snow thought. "I hope she finds someone one day. She deserves to be happy."

Snow picked at some lint on her sweater.

"You don't think she is? Happy, I mean?"

Henry shrugged.

"Mostly, she is. I think. But, sometimes she gets in these moods. I think she's sad that she doesn't have any family except me. She tries to hide it from me, but I can still see it."

He'd always been such a perceptive boy.

"And you, Henry?" Snow asked gently. "Are you happy?" She knew Regina's hopes, at least, rested on his answer.

He shrugged again, looking uncomfortable.

"I guess. School's good. And we've won most of our softball games this year. Mom and I have a good life. She likes her job." He nodded. "Yeah, I'm happy."

Snow sensed the _but_ underneath the surface of his words.

"I have these strange dreams sometimes," he blurted out, his face turning slightly red.

It seemed unusual dreams were contagious. Snow paused before asking.

"What about?"

He stared down at his lap, as if deciding how to reply.

"Mom and I are driving down this road," he began, "It's in the middle of nowhere and I don't remember how we got there." He frowned slightly. "And as we're driving, I feel like I've forgotten something, or left something behind, so I turn around to look back, but there's nothing there." He rubbed a finger over the game controller, scratched at some small mark. "And then I wake up."

"Dreams can be pretty strange sometimes," Snow said. She didn't want to drag his spirits down even further than being sick already had. As with Emma, she occasionally saw the boy she knew shine through at times. That cheeky smile. A blunt remark. A strong conviction about something. But, there were differences too. Like he had been freed from the burden of keeping people honest, of having to question their motives. It made him seem younger somehow, yet it was clear that he was growing up.

Henry nodded.

"Yeah, they can," he agreed. He chewed his lip for a moment. "But, I wake up not feeling like it was a dream at all. Like it happened yesterday or something."

The silence grew until Henry sat forward and held up the controller.

"Ready for another round?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. Whatever pensive mood he'd been in seemed to have vanished suddenly. Snow had no desire to bring it back, only felt touched that he'd said anything at all.

"I think my hands have recovered enough," she replied and he hit the play button.

"Mom really likes you," he said emphatically, his fingers moving back and forth quickly. "I can tell. She doesn't have many friends." He smiled in that boyish way she remembered. "I think this is good for her."

Snow smiled back, not caring that her score was falling further and further behind.

"It's good for me too, Henry."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N I went all the way back to 1x17 for lines in this chapter.**

**Thanks for reading.**

Chapter 8

Her phone rang shrilly. She hadn't changed the tone from its default setting, not that it rang much anyway.

"Miss Blanchard?"

Snow frowned.

"Yes," she replied. She had bought the cheap, pre-paid cell phone a day after meeting Emma. In fact, Emma's was one of only a couple of numbers she had. But, the only number that mattered. She had called the detectives who had handled her assault to give her number to them and received one from them as well. They had suggested she would probably be needed at some time or another. She had heard from them twice, but they had given sparse details, nothing she didn't already know. The second time was simply to keep her abreast of the long, slow process of bringing a criminal to justice.

The detective she had met that night identified himself and then left a brief, weighted pause.

"Miss Blanchard, there's been an incident and we don't want to alarm you, but we have some news that may be difficult for you to hear."

Snow looked over at Emma, who was sitting opposite her at their table in the diner, where they had met for dinner. Henry's head was bent over a comic book as he slurped at a milkshake. Emma nudged at him to quieten down.

"What kind of news, detective?" she asked slowly and Emma's eyes locked onto hers, her eyes narrowing, head tilting in curiosity. Her gaze was so expressive, had always been. It made her constantly seem ready to jump into action, whatever the need.

"Miss Blanchard, it's about Joseph Windsor."

News about her attacker that would be difficult to hear. It didn't really take a rocket scientist to figure out what this phone call was about.

"Miss Blanchard, Mr Windsor was in a police vehicle being transferred between prisons. There were several prisoners with him. We think perhaps they engineered an escape plan. We managed to recapture all the prisoners…"

"Except Joseph Windsor," Snow said softly. Emma leaned forward, hot cocoa forgotten, and Henry looked up from his comic, sensing a change, a charge in the atmosphere around them.

There was another pause.

"That's correct, Miss Blanchard. As of now, he is a fugitive. We wanted to personally call you to inform you that we are doing everything we possibly can to apprehend him. We're going to send a squad car over with a couple of officers tonight, just to make sure he doesn't try anything. Chances are he's going to try and cross the state line, put some distance between himself and the city, but we want to be sure. Perhaps you have a relative or a friend who could stay with you?"

Snow nodded, then checked herself, remembering the detective couldn't see her.

"Yes. Yes," she replied.

"I'll call again as soon as we have any news."

She nodded again.

"Thank you, detective." She pressed the End Call button and placed the phone on the table.

Amidst all of the thoughts she'd had concerning this world, all the musings and wonderings about Emma and Henry, she hadn't given a lot of thought to the man who had attacked her since the night it had happened. She wasn't afraid, not really. She'd faced far worse in her time, what's more she was ready for worse. She'd underestimated the threats of this world in her preoccupation with the evils of the world she had come from. But, now she was vigilant. She wouldn't be caught twice.

Snow became aware of Emma and Henry watching her. After a moment, she looked up at them with a wry smile.

"Looks like he was a slippery character," she said and Emma's brow furrowed.

"What does that mean?" she asked grimly, already guessing judging by the look on her face.

"He escaped," Snow stated.

Henry's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. Emma had told him of Snow's attack the night she came to dinner, when he asked how they had met. He had been terribly curious, then terribly proud of his mother for rescuing Snow. The way he idolised Emma certainly hadn't changed.

"Do the police think he's going to come after you?" he asked worriedly.

Snow shook her head.

"The detective said it's more likely he's going to leave the state. Less chance of being caught, I guess. Besides, he doesn't know where I live. We met on the street after all."

Emma tapped her fingernails against the hard surface of the table, regarding Snow grimly, her face dark.

"We don't know that for sure. He might have been watching you before that night. No, you're staying with us tonight," she declared, nodding emphatically. Henry glanced at her sideways, nodding in agreement.

Under other circumstances, Snow would have found it amusing, how much they looked alike.

"It's ok, really. I doubt he'll come looking for me. It's like the detective said." But, it gave her a warm feeling that Emma had offered. Reminded her that she was drawing ever closer…

Emma leaned forward and placed a heavy hand on Snow's arm, staring at her intently. Fiercely.

"He'll have even less chance of getting to you if you're staying with a police officer," she said with finality. "Don't argue with me on this, Mary Margaret. You're my friend and I want to do this. I protect the people I care about. Tonight, you just shot to the top of the list."

"_Nobody's ever been there for me, except for you. And I cannot lose that. I cannot lose my family."_

The almost-forgotten words hit her suddenly. Words from only a year or two ago. Words from a lifetime ago. In a world where neither of them had known what they were to each other. Separated by a cosmic curse, a great chasm of empty memories. And yet, a world where Emma had been anxiously determined to get her out of trouble, had risked her own safety for it. She could still see, in her mind's eye, the wide-eyed look of desperation in Emma's eyes as they had stood next to her car outside Jefferson's house.

"_Wouldn't you rather face this together than alone?"_

It was a no-brainer really. And, more and more, she could feel it approaching. The moment of truth. Somehow, it seemed inevitable now that she would help Emma and Henry get their memories back. A deeper _something_ was driving them towards it. She didn't know exactly how it would happen, what circumstances would set themselves with or against them, but it was coming.

Something was coming.

Snow raised her hands placatingly. She wanted to beam, part pride, part love.

"Ok, ok," she agreed. "Just for tonight."

* * *

Snow looked up as Emma entered the apartment and closed the door behind her. Snow sat on the couch, waiting, a cup of tea warming her hands.

"They're out there?" she asked.

Emma removed her jacket and nodded.

"Yeah. Out the front. They'll be there for the night. Gave me a number to call if anything happens." She gave Snow a meaningful look. "Which it won't."

Snow smiled.

"Do you want some tea?"

Emma shook her head.

"I thought I might go to bed. But, feel free to stay up. Make yourself at home, watch TV, whatever you like." She smiled and gestured to her bedroom. "I'll see you in the morning."

Snow nodded, watching Emma disappear into her room, feeling disappointed that the evening was over. She supposed that's what came from one party wanting to be around the other constantly and the other having no idea.

She stood up and took a slow turn around the living area. It was stylish and spacious and Snow imagined it was quite airy and bright in the daylight. She wondered if it was the kind of place Emma would have chosen for herself. Snow wandered towards the large windows and looked out, out over the tops of other buildings, out at the twinkling lights. She looked down, able to catch a glimpse of the street the apartment building was on. She let her eyes travel further, down the empty side alley running underneath the window.

Empty.

Or rather….

Snow squinted and craned her neck forward. Blinking a couple of times, she refocused and looked again, thinking perhaps that the lights and shadows and being a few stories up had played games with her vision.

But, there was no mistake.

There was someone there, in the shadows. They were standing in such a way as to conceal any recognisable features (not that she would see them this far away), but Snow could at least ascertain that it was a man from his stance and the trousers and shoes she could see. He was simply standing there, unmoving at the wall on the opposite side of the alley. He wasn't directly below her, but perhaps two apartments over.

She watched for what felt like endless minutes.

A man?

Or _the_ man?

She hadn't really got a good look at Joseph Windsor that night. He had been behind her mostly and the few moments they had been face to face, his had been cast in shadow. Probably the way he had planned it. And then she had cracked her head on the wall and seen nothing after that. She doubted she would recognise him if she saw him again. But, here was a man standing alone in the darkness next to the building in which she lived, merely hours after her attacker had escaped from prison. It was strange, if nothing else.

And then he looked up.

Snow instinctively stepped backwards, out of his line of sight and her foot caught a stool standing behind her. It fell to the ground with a clunk and she spun around, cursing the noise. She bent down to pick it up and heard a door open. She looked up to see Emma pulling on a robe and walking out of her room.

"Are you ok?" she asked, frowning, casting a quick glance around the apartment.

Snow set the stool upright and smiled tightly.

"Yes. I saw someone. Out there." She gestured to the window. "He's been standing there for a few minutes. I have no idea if it's him or not. You saw him much more than I did."

Even as Snow was speaking, Emma's expression changed in an instant and she moved quickly to the window, her eyes scanning the alley below. Then her eyes sharply moved further along and she stared for a moment, chewing her lip. Snow watched as she turned and walked over to the kitchen bench and picked up the phone. She punched in a number and held it to her ear. Snow listened to her side of the conversation.

"Yeah, it's Emma Swan. We've just seen someone in the alley along the building. I came to the window and he took off…" She paused. "Yeah, definitely a white male, but I didn't get a good look…ok…yeah…thanks." She ended the call and placed the phone back on the bench.

"They're going to take a look around." She nodded her head toward the door. "Everything's locked and my gun is in my bedside table. No way he can try anything."

It was so _Emma_, so her instinctive nature to protect, that Snow couldn't help smiling a little. Emma smiled back, a little uncertainly. Perhaps she thought the tension was getting to her.

"I think you must be a good cop," Snow said, looking behind her to sit on the stool she had knocked over. "You have this…way, I guess. Of taking control, of making people feel like you really…" She gestured, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Serve and protect?" Emma replied, smiling crookedly.

"Well…yes," Snow nodded, chuckling. She let the smile drift away. "Henry must be so proud of you. I bet he tells all his friends about your job."

Emma's expression was unreadable.

"Yeah, he is pretty proud." She hesitated for a long moment, before adding, "He's the only person who I've ever made proud."

Snow bit the inside of her lip to stop her face from betraying the pain of that statement. At how untrue that statement really was. At how Emma, in fact, had a whole town of people who had been proud to call her Sheriff. And parents. A mother who sometimes had to sit back and remind herself that this incredible, brave…that this person was _her_ daughter.

_You were an orphan. It's my job to change that._

When the time came, nothing would stop her from ensuring Emma never felt this way again.

"I hope you don't think I haven't noticed," Emma said quietly as they stared out the window.

Snow turned to look at her, but again was unable to guess what lay beneath her expression.

"Noticed what?" Snow asked, the beginnings of nervousness fluttering in her stomach.

Emma shifted her weight from one leg to the other, not looking up to meet her questioning gaze. She stared hard out the window.

"That I'm so busy telling you every detail of my life that I know very little about yours." She finally looked over at Snow, smiling softly. "You told me early on about your parents, where you're from, your job, but apart from that, there's not much else, Mary Margaret. You're like this…pilgrim…someone who's just passing through and I don't think that's who you really are. You seem more like the family type, someone with roots." Her smile faded. "Is there someone waiting for you, Mary Margaret? Don't you have people back in Maine? I can't possibly be the only friend you have. The only person you have. It just doesn't seem possible."

She'd been a sponge. Desperate for details about her daughter that she had absorbed every morsel of information Emma had given. Snow wondered if this was Emma's superpower talking. If some of the vague answers and omissions had struck some kind of cord. Or if they were merely the questions of a person whose heart had been wounded one too many times. Who had been abandoned and disregarded by practically everyone she'd ever met. Perhaps she thought Snow was holding back because she was going to leave. She didn't seem angry. Resigned…?

Time to throw caution to the wind.

"I do," Snow admitted. "I do have people waiting for me. But, they know I have to be here." She reached forward and put a hand on Emma's arm. "And here and now? Here and now, _you_ are the only friend who matters. I've only asked all those questions because I'm interested in the person that you are. Because your friendship has come to mean so much to me. And you might think Henry is the only person who's proud of you, but I can assure you that it's not true. I am proud." She gave the arm under her fingers a squeeze.

Emma smiled at her, looking a little relieved and if Snow didn't know better, she would have thought Emma's eyes had turned somewhat misty.

Yes, here in the quiet of the apartment, so far from home, they were finding each other.

* * *

She hadn't known.

Hadn't had any kind of clue that this was coming.

Not an inkling.

So, when her phone rang a few days later, she simply put her cup of coffee down and picked it up. And without a moment's hesitation or fear, she answered.

"Hello?"

There was a cacophony of noise in the background, a mish-mash of sounds she could barely distinguish. It sounded like crossed lines, like the roar of a crowd, like some kind of howling beast.

"Emma? I can barely hear you," she called out, sticking one finger in her ear to focus on the line. "Emma?"

There was a few moments of swirling noise.

Then the voice came through and she heard every one of the four words Emma uttered in a tone she would never forget. A tone that turned her blood to ice.

"Mary Margaret? It's Henry..."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N A sudden rush of inspiration. Don't know where it came from. But, brace yourself...**

**(A line from 2x01 here.)**

Chapter 9

She barely registered what she was doing. Her mind had switched to autopilot and she stood up quickly, her chair falling backward with a thud. Her hands reached out, for her jacket, for her keys, for her purse (into which she shoved her phone) and she charged for the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut as she ran towards the stairs. She couldn't wait for the elevator. She needed to be moving.

Emma hadn't said much, but it was enough for Snow to hear the panic in her voice. Henry was in the ER right now, being examined by a doctor. The police were there too, but so far no one knew what had happened. Snow had assured Emma she was on her way to the hospital.

She had called her.

Emma had called _her_ for help. Had wanted _her _in this hour of need. And there had been not even the slightest hesitation that Snow would go to her. Stand beside her, support her, literally hold her upright if needs be. It was just another outward sign of their growing relationship.

Snow hoped beyond hope that it didn't come at the expense of Henry.

She exited the apartment building and pounded down the road towards the subway station a few hundred metres away. She took the steps down into the station two at a time and made her way along the platform, panting for breath, looking up and down the track for a sign that a train was on its way. The small group of people waiting there indicated that a train must be coming soon. Still trying to catch her breath, she pulled her phone out and impatiently began swiping through pages on the Internet, desperately figuring out which station to get off at and how far it was from there.

She hadn't ventured terribly far from her neighbourhood in the time she'd been there, her thoughts more preoccupied with catching glimpses of her family and finding ways to spend time with them. Emma had offered to take her on a tour of the usual tourist sites, but they hadn't decided on a day to do it yet. So, Snow was navigating her own way, left with the correct train line and the name of the station she needed to get off at, details Emma had hurriedly supplied before getting back to Henry.

Sure enough, within minutes, the train pulled up and she jumped on, taking a seat facing into the carriage, her back to the window. She could hardly sit still and her leg jiggled up and down as she felt anxiety roll over her in waves. The image of Emma's leg doing much the same thing the day they had first had breakfast came to mind and she closed her eyes tightly, inwardly shouting at the train driver to drive faster, to skip stations, to hurtle non-stop to her station.

_Freaking out is not going to help Emma_, she told herself and concentrated on a deep breath. Emma needed her strength. So did Henry.

And she would give it.

Snow opened her eyes, staring out the window for a moment, before letting her eyes drift around the carriage. It was half full of commuters, school kids, mothers with children.

Her gaze flicked to her left.

His face turned away suddenly.

Snow shifted her head slightly. He had been looking at her. A man, sitting in a seat travelling backwards. He was behind a middle-aged couple and all she could see of him from her position was part of his face and the top of his shoulder.

But, he had been looking at her.

Snow didn't know why she kept her eyes on him. She had taken public transport a couple of times before. People looked around all the time, caught the eyes of strangers all the time. She didn't know if he had got on at the same stop as she had or if he had already been there. Her mind had been distracted.

Was her anxiety and worry making her paranoid?

She was almost ready to turn away and berate herself for being ridiculous when his head moved and he looked over at her again.

How could she know?

She had only ever seen _him_ under the cover of night. Had only been close to him under a moment of complete duress.

How could she know?

She knew.

She knew from the moment he looked at her for a third time. She knew by the way she had to actively focus herself on not looking at him, of appearing as unconcerned and casual as possible. She knew by the warning in her heart. Her instinct that this was, in fact, Joseph Windsor.

Snow sat back against the seat and considered her options. Call the detectives now and tell them she was sharing a train with her attacker? They would probably tell her to stay on the train until they could get to a station further up the line and come at him from there. But, what if Henry's injuries were serious and he took a turn for the worse? Snow would never forgive herself if she wasn't there.

That left getting off at her planned station. He would undoubtedly follow her. She could shout out for help or lose him in the crowd. If there was a crowd.

Or she could just run for it, hope she made it to the hospital, where there would be plenty of people and then call the police.

She shook her head slightly as her mind blurred with thoughts. Her leg was practically bouncing and she placed her hands on her knees, forcing her leg to stay still. She breathed in and out through her mouth, aware of her pounding heart and hands shaking with anticipation.

As the train stopped at the latest station, she caught a glimpse of the name. Her hands gripped her knees tighter at the realisation that her stop was next. She looked over at the door, half listening to the warning to stand clear and then watching as the doors closed. As the train made its way toward the next station, she licked her dry lips, trying to use her peripheral vision to see if her pursuer had moved.

She couldn't see him though.

Snow felt her muscles start to tighten as she felt the train begin to slow down. She swallowed hard, steeling herself. She needed speed. She needed timing. She needed luck. She braced herself as the train braked hard, pulling up at her station. After a moment, the door opened and a few passengers got off.

_Not yet._

A woman with her hands full of shopping bags got on, shuffling toward the centre of the aisle, before sitting down heavily.

_Not yet._

A young guy wearing a college sweatshirt stood up abruptly and walked quickly to the door, his phone stuck to his ear.

_Not yet._

The warning to stand clear of the doors sounded. Snow's muscles were tight with tension.

_Go._

And as she sprang to her feet, the doors just metres away began to close. She kept her eyes on the doors, ready to start sprinting once she was clear. As she got to within a couple of metres, she turned her body to the side. It was the only way she would fit through the rapidly closing gap to the outside. She sucked in her breath and took two giant sidesteps, feeling the doors brush against the material of her clothes as she passed them. She heard them thud closed and as she turned to look, a hand slammed against the glass. Snow stared through the door as the train began to move and saw a pair of angry eyes in an unshaven face. His mouth opened and formed words that she couldn't decipher as the train moved further away, carrying Joseph Windsor with it.

She stood on the platform for a moment and blew out a breath. There was barely a moment to think about what had just happened. Barely a moment to register that it _had_ happened. What did he want from her? He didn't know her!

Snow shook her head and turned toward the station exit, breaking into a jog as she went up the stairs. She had bigger things to worry about right now than Joseph Windsor.

* * *

The ER didn't appear too busy as she hurried inside. Corridors stretched away from her in a few different directions, leading to doors directing her to different parts of the hospital, some with the words Staff Only printed in bold.

Snow made for the Reception area and spotted a nurse jotting down notes on a chart.

"Excuse me? Can you tell me where Henry Mi… uh, Henry Swan is? I was told he was brought here."

The nurse looked up and regarded her for a moment.

"Are you family?" she asked, moving to a collection of charts.

_Screw it._

"Yes, I am family," Snow said firmly. "I'm his aunt." It was the only lie she'd told so far that she didn't feel even remotely sorry for.

The nurse nodded and thumbed quickly through the charts, before selecting one and pulling it out. She scanned it quickly.

"Well, the doctor has seen Henry and he's going to be ok. He has a sprained wrist and some minor scrapes and bruises. Apparently he fell and hit his head, but there's no concussion. He'll just be a bit sore and sorry for a few days." The nurse smiled sympathetically and nodded toward one of the curtained areas. "He's over there," she said and moved out from behind the desk. "Come on. I did see a couple of police officers heading over here a while ago," she added over her shoulder.

Snow followed the nurse to a bed that was curtained off and watched as it was pulled back slightly. The nurse discreetly bent her neck through the gap.

"I have a woman here, says she's Henry's aunt?"

Snow winced, but looked up sharply as Emma pushed the curtain back more fully. Emma's look of sheer and utter relief at seeing her almost hit Snow like a physical blow.

"Hey," Emma said quietly and reached toward Snow, taking hold of her arm and pulling her into the surrounded area. Snow tilted her head as she rounded the curtain and caught sight of Henry, sitting on the bed, his back against some pillows. Her heart clenched and she felt something release inside. He looked so small there against the stark whiteness of the sheets. His face had been cleaned up, but she could see the scratches and slight swelling on his cheek. She spotted the bandage around his wrist.

"Hi Henry," she said and smiled gently.

He smiled bravely back at her, but couldn't conceal the fear and shock in his eyes. He suddenly appeared so much younger to her. Snow reached forward and placed a hand softly on his leg.

"You doing ok?"

He nodded slightly.

Snow smiled again and then turned to the two police officers standing on the other side of the bed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said and looked over at Emma.

"It's fine, ma'am. We were just finishing up." One of the officers turned to Emma. "If he remembers anything else, just let us know."

Emma nodded, her thumb resting on her bottom lip, nail wedged firmly between her teeth. She seemed to remember where she was suddenly and pulled her hand out and down.

"Thanks," she replied curtly.

The officers nodded and left, bidding goodbye to Henry as they did. Snow and Emma watched them leave, before turning to stare at each other wordlessly. There was a long supercharged silence as the events descended on them, seemed to fill the air around them.

"Hell of a day, huh kid," Emma said, finally looking over at Henry.

Snow wondered if she had imagined Emma's voice had just cracked slightly.

Henry smiled weakly and nodded, before casting his eyes down to his lap. Snow could see him blinking rapidly and her heart lurched in sympathy.

"Henry, are you hungry? I saw a vending machine before," she said, hoping the idea of something sweet would take his mind off things for a moment.

He looked up at her and appeared to be thinking.

"Maybe a Snickers?" he said eventually, swallowing hard.

Snow smiled and nodded emphatically.

"Good choice. I'll be right back."

Emma lay a hand on Henry's shoulder.

"Will you be ok here by yourself for a second? I want to talk to Mary Margaret for a bit." At his nod, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, held it there for a moment, and then the two women slid out from behind the curtain and walked towards a corridor.

Snow looked over at Emma as they headed to the vending machine.

"I'm sorry I said I was his aunt. I didn't think they'd let me come over..."

Emma shook her head slightly, dismissing the apology, but didn't say a word. She stopped in front of the vending machine and reached into her pocket, fishing out some coins. Snow watched her carefully as Emma stared into the glass display, pushing the coins into the slot and pressing two of the buttons. At the dull thud of the chocolate bar hitting the metal of the tray, she bent over and pulled it out. Finally, she stood up and faced Snow.

Her eyes were wet.

Snow wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Emma, to soothe her fears away, to protect her from this heartache. She settled, agonisingly, for a hand on Emma's arm.

"He's ok," she said softly. "The doctor said he's ok."

Emma bit her lip and closed her eyes, her hand clutching the chocolate bar.

Snow looked around and spied a couple of chairs sitting in an alcove and she tugged on Emma's arm, leading her to them. They sat side-by-side, neither saying a word for a long moment.

Emma leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head up with her hands.

"I couldn't protect him," she finally said in a strangled voice. "I wasn't there to protect him…"

Snow leaned forward too and placed a hand on Emma's back, pressing down to let Emma know that someone was _there_. That someone was with her.

"There's no way you could have known, no way you could have stopped this," she said in a low voice.

Emma let out a choked laugh.

"He beat them off with his softball bat, you know?" she said, wiping at a stray tear. "Said it was some guy he'd never seen before. A _man_, Mary Margaret. Some bastard tried to take my son."

"Henry's brave though, just like his mom," Snow replied gently, rubbing small circles around Emma's back. "He fought back." She lifted her arm until it was wrapped around Emma's shoulder and held it there, feeling relief when she felt Emma lean into her.

"He's all I have in this world," Emma whispered, staring at the ground. Her hands moved into her hair and gripped it tightly, nails digging into her scalp. "If he hadn't…"

"Don't go there," Snow interjected, clutching Emma tighter. "You'll only hurt yourself if you go round and round like that. The best thing you can do for him now is just be his mom. Make sure he's not afraid. Make sure he's ok."

Emma choked out another mirthless laugh.

"How can I help him be ok when I'm not? Sometimes I just feel so _lost_. I'm alone without him, Mary Margaret."

Snow wanted to squeeze her eyes shut against the burn of tears threatening to spill over. It was like Emma's confession in the forest all over again. A reminder of how many threads had been cut, how many ties had been broken the moment the door to that blasted wardrobe had closed and changed their destinies forever.

"I'm sorry," Snow whispered, bringing her head down to lean against Emma's. "I'm sorry this happened." She cursed the sentiment even as it left her lips. There truly were some things that _I'm sorry _couldn't even touch, some agonies that could not be repaired with mere words. Of course, Emma had no idea what she was even apologising about, probably believed Snow was simply conveying the sympathies that came with sitting in a hospital waiting room. But, even now, Snow's mind whirred with what was to come, of how she would indeed do her job and ensure Emma never felt alone again. Never felt lost again.

_At least we would have been together._

Now, finally, Snow rather thought she and the Emma who had uttered those words so many months ago were on the same page. And she knew she couldn't leave Emma here to live her 'good life.' Because her daughter didn't deserve a good life.

She deserved a great one. An extraordinary one. And she couldn't have that without her family.

_All_ of them.

It was the slight shaking that broke Snow from her reverie. She closed her eyes and put her other arm around Emma, clutching her in a tight embrace, feeling her daughter rest her head on her shoulder.

They'd met but a few weeks ago. Had numerous conversations. But who they were to each other somehow fought its way through anyway. Spells and portals and the rearrangement of memories just couldn't hide what was true.

She didn't know why she hadn't expected what came next.

Hadn't anticipated it.

It should have been so obvious to _her_, of all people.

So, when she pressed her lips to the top of Emma's head, it was so utterly laughable that she was so surprised when she felt the magical pulse rip through her and visibly ripple outward, away from where she sat holding Emma.

She wondered how she hadn't seen it coming, but that it felt so right when it did.

True Love's kiss.

The magic to break any spell.

Even in a land without magic.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N We're approaching the end of this story and I continue to thank all of you who are reading and enjoying it.**

**I've used a couple of bad words here, similar to an earlier chapter.**

Chapter 10

They were frozen there together in an alcove of the Emergency Room, Snow with her lips pressed to the top of Emma's head. The magical ripple rapidly faded, but the hospital continued on as if nothing had happened.

As if True Love's Kiss hadn't just changed everything.

Snow felt Emma jolt in her arms and she sat back, pulling out of the embrace. She watched as Emma slowly sat up and met her gaze, her cheeks still showing the tears she had just been crying. They did nothing but stare, Snow waiting on Emma to break the silence.

Emma stood up, moving as if she were an eighty-year old woman, tired and pained. She sucked in a deep breath and looked out at the ER, at the oblivious doctors and nurses, at the bustle carrying on unawares. Snow stood up behind her and patiently waited.

"I had this wish inside me," Emma said softly, not turning around. "This hope for…more. For…something." She shook her head and lifted her shoulders in a soft shrug.

For a brief moment, Snow wondered if she had misread what had just happened.

Until Emma turned around and faced her.

"I missed you, Mary Margaret," Emma said, her eyes filled to the brim. "And I didn't even know who I was missing."

Snow took four steps to bridge the space between them and lifted her arms, wrapping them around Emma's back and pulling her close. She felt Emma's own hands press against her back and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

At last.

At _last_.

"I missed you too," she whispered in reply. "And you've been right in front of me for days."

She felt Emma nod and they let the silence speak the things they couldn't say, let the strength of their embrace communicate more than words ever could.

"Mom?"

Snow opened her eyes as Emma pulled back from her and they turned to see Henry moving towards them. Emma took a step toward him and watched him carefully.

"Hey kid," she said slowly. "You ok?"

He nodded and stopped in front of Snow.

"Grandma?" he said, one corner of his mouth turning up slightly.

Snow choked out a laugh and moved forward to embrace him, feeling his arms just about squeeze the breath out of her.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that title," she said, reaching up and wiping a stray tear from her face. "But, right now it's the best thing I've heard in days."

He grasped her tightly one last time, then pulled back, his eyes searching her face.

"Is…my mom here too?" he asked hesitantly, hopefully, looking so much like a little boy again. Snow could see in his eyes that he was remembering the manner of their parting. His declaration that, after everything, Regina was indeed his mother and nothing more.

"No, Henry, it's just me. Everyone else is waiting for us back in the Enchanted Forest." She turned to Emma. "Regina's our way home."

Emma blew out a breath and ran a hand over her face.

"You've definitely got some explaining to do," she said firmly.

* * *

"So, exactly how many days do we have left before Regina opens the portal again?" Emma asked, stirring her cocoa absently, which had long since grown cold.

The three of them sat at their table in the diner, the fluoro lights a harsh contrast against the darkness outside. After another hour of sitting with Henry in the ER waiting on doctors and paperwork, he had been discharged and they had decided on something to eat at the diner. Neither Emma nor Snow felt like cooking. On the way, Emma and Henry had plied Snow with questions. She had done her best to assure them that yes, everyone they knew and cared about was ok, but that there was a new threat making its way across the land.

"_What do you need us for?" _Emma had asked. _"Why did you come to find us?"_

Snow had gazed levelly at Emma.

"_With Rumplestiltskin dead, Regina is the most powerful magic bearer in the kingdom. And even with Tinkerbell and Blue beside her, she's…not strong enough. The entire realm is under threat from this Witch."_

Emma's eyes had immediately shown her understanding.

"_You need the Saviour,"_ she had said, a knowing, crooked smile ghosting over her face.

Snow had winced internally at Emma's words. She would, before they left New York, find the time to tell Emma that it was so much more than needing the Saviour. At least for her.

"Just under a week," Snow now replied, answering Emma's most recent question.

There was a brief silence and Snow could practically see their minds ticking over with more questions.

"How did you find us, anyway?" Henry asked. "How did you know to come to New York?"

Snow nodded, smiling at him.

"We didn't know where you'd be. Regina cast a spell to find you, but it only gave the general area. I had to locate you myself. With the Internet and a phonebook."

Henry looked impressed, while Emma frowned.

"I doubt even you could have predicted how we'd end up meeting," she observed.

At her words, it suddenly rushed back to Snow. She opened her mouth and placed both hands on the table, looking intently at Emma.

"I almost forgot with everything that's happened. I saw him again."

Emma leaned forward, her jaw tightening.

"Joseph Windsor?" she clarified.

Snow nodded.

"On the train to the hospital. I slipped out as the doors were closing, but he was definitely looking to come after me. And now, I'm starting to wonder…" She turned to Henry. "Henry, did you get a good look at the man who attacked you today?"

He looked between the two women and nodded, swallowing.

"What did he look like?" Snow prompted gently.

Henry frowned and looked down at the table, concentrating.

"His eyes were really dark and wide," he said, his brow furrowing. "And he looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days."

Snow kept her eyes on him, her suspicion growing.

"And what was he wearing?" she asked.

"Uh…" Henry's forehead wrinkled. "He had on grey trousers, I think, and a sweatshirt with a red…"

"Collar," Snow finished, looking over at Emma, who raised her eyebrows.

"That's a little too convenient. Do you know this guy?" she asked.

"No," Snow said firmly. "But, I don't believe in coincidences like that, the same man attacking both of us on the same day." She rubbed her forehead, before looking up at them. "I don't know how or why, but I think it's possible that someone else came over here from the Enchanted Forest."

The thought simmered between the three of them for a long minute.

"Someone hitched a ride on your portal?" Emma guessed.

Snow shook her head.

"No, Regina knows what she's doing. I trust her." She laughed a little as Emma's eyebrows raised even higher. "A lot has happened since we all left Storybrooke."

"Obviously," Emma said, bewildered.

"I don't know how they got here," Snow continued. "If it is as I suspect. But, I think it's safe to say that our apartments are no longer a refuge. He obviously knows we're together, connected. He may even know now that we're family."

Emma leaned closer.

"Do you think he knows that you're…" she lowered her voice a little. "Snow White?"

Snow shook her head.

"I have no idea, nor do I know what he wants."

Emma's eyes darted back and forth, her mind whirring with possibilities.

"What if we lay a trap for him?" she suggested. "Try and catch him. Then we could question him and find out who he is and, more importantly, if it was this Witch who sent him."

"I think that's a good idea," Snow replied. "But, he's so unpredictable. I don't know if he has magic…"

"Well, he's in my world and not even magic will stop my gun," Emma said grimly.

* * *

"Your place or mine?" Snow asked as they crossed the street toward their apartment building.

Emma placed a hand at her own back, lifting her jacket slightly for Snow to catch a glimpse of the metal of her gun tucked into her jeans.

"I have everything I need for the moment. Plus, I'm betting you were the original target, so we'll go to yours. He may have been there since we've been out. Maybe left a clue of some kind if we're lucky."

"What did you tell the babysitter?" Snow asked curiously. "She must have thought it strange to drop Henry off hours after he was attacked."

Snow had been somewhat surprised when Henry hadn't uttered a word in protest when Emma told him he wouldn't be coming with them to catch Joseph Windsor. His determination to be a hero had got him into trouble more than once over the past few years, but hadn't appeared to dampen his desire to keep trying. But, when he'd quietly acquiesced to Emma's wishes that he be as far away as possible, Snow had looked at him thoughtfully. His reply to her scrutiny had been a quiet,

"_I don't want everyone to have to rescue me like in Neverland."_

His maturity had surprised her, reminding her that it had indeed been quite some time since she'd seen him.

"I told her I was working Henry's case. I think she got it," Emma replied.

They entered the building and made their way to the lift. Snow pressed the button for her floor and they rode up in silence. The ping of the bell indicated they had arrived and the door opened.

The corridor was deserted when they stepped out of the lift. Emma walked ahead, one hand under the back of her jacket, on her gun. Snow dug into her pocket for the keys to her apartment.

They stopped outside the front door. Emma pulled the gun out from her jeans and clicked off the safety catch.

"Unlock it as quietly as you can," she whispered, holding the gun in two hands, pointing it at the floor. "Push it open a little. I'll go first."

Snow nodded and swallowed. She inserted the key into the lock and turned it slowly, the muscles in her arm tensing at the first meeting of resistance. She clenched her teeth as she heard the mechanisms of the lock scraping against each other until, finally, there was a soft click. She turned the key back and slid it out of the lock, returning it to her pocket. She nodded at Emma before turning the doorknob and pushing the door ajar.

She stepped back and Emma slipped in front of her, easing the door open with one hand. Snow watched as Emma swung into the room, making a large sweep with her body, the gun held out in front of her. She followed Emma into the room, taking a quick look around to see that it was empty.

"Anything out of place that you can tell?" Emma asked quietly.

Snow shook her head. Emma's eyes darted around the room and she stepped slowly toward the bedroom door, which was already open. Snow closed the front door and watched Emma move into the bedroom. She held her breath waiting for a thud, or a shout… or a gunshot.

But, Emma emerged a moment later, shaking her head to indicate there was nothing there. Snow walked further into the room towards the kitchen and Emma disappeared down the hallway toward the second bedroom and bathroom.

As Snow stood waiting, a sharp noise from behind caught her attention.

She turned…

The hand was around her throat before she could utter a sound. What came out of her mouth after that sounded like a choked gargle around the fingers digging into her neck. This time, though, she had half been expecting an attack.

But, where the hell had he come from? They'd walked into an empty room…

Snow allowed Joseph Windsor to push her backward several paces. Their eyes met, his wide and almost manic. Despite the crushing pressure on her throat, her mind was clear and she was fully aware that her hands were completely free. Even without a bow and arrow, she wasn't the type to just surrender. She opened her right hand flat and gathered herself before thrusting upwards, catching his nose with the hard heel of her hand. She felt something pop at the contact and he yelped, instantly releasing the grip on her throat.

"Bitch!"

Snow immediately pushed him backwards, causing him to stumble and turned her head.

"Emma!"

She heard the pounding footsteps, before watching Emma come storming out into the living room, gun up, hands steady. She took in the sight of Joseph Windsor half doubled over, blood pouring from his nose.

"You ok?" she asked Snow breathlessly, training the gun on the man.

Snow rubbed her throbbing neck and nodded slightly, trying to swallow.

Emma moved a few steps in front of Snow.

"Remember me, asshole? Hands up where I can see them."

Joseph Windsor took another half-step backward and slowly stood up straight. He breathed in and out heavily, reaching up a hand to wipe at his pouring nose. He studied the blood on his fingers for a moment and then spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet. He grinned at them, his gums stained bright red.

"Not bad," he growled, shaking his head. "She said you'd be formidable, even without magic."

Snow cast a quick sideways glance at Emma, whose gun hadn't wavered from its position, aimed directly at him.

"She?" she asked quickly, with the aim of buying time. "You mean the Witch?"

He chuckled, a harsh, guttural sound.

"Oh, she is so much more than that," he replied. "We both are."

Before Snow or Emma could speak a word, the man began to transform before their eyes in a cloud of green smoke until the man stood before them no longer. In his place was something neither of them had ever laid eyes on. They would almost have called it a primate of some sort, but for the gnashing teeth as sharp as knives. And the wings….

Emma's eyes widened into saucers and her mouth dropped open.

"Really?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

The creature screeched and rose into the air, flying at Emma and ducking as quick as a flash when the gun went off. Snow heard the crack of plaster as the bullet hit a wall on the other side of the room. She watched as Emma dropped to her knees, swiping at the creature with the gun, catching it on the side of its head. It screeched angrily and rose into the air away from her, wings flapping loudly.

Snow stood behind it as it glowered in front of Emma and she desperately cast a look around for a weapon of some kind. Charging over to the dining table, she grabbed one of the wooden chairs and picked it up.

"Mary Margaret!" she heard Emma cry from behind her and turned to see a flurry of arms, legs and feathers swooping straight toward her. She lifted the chair and swung it, hearing the gun go off a second time.

The creature howled and Snow didn't know if it was from her direct hit with the chair or from Emma's bullet. She watched as it took a final look around, screeching in fury, before zooming straight towards the window, shattering the glass and disappearing outside.

Both women breathed heavily in the sudden silence. Snow dropped the chair to the ground with a clatter and looked over at Emma.

"Did you hit it?" she asked.

Emma lowered the gun.

"I think so. It didn't seem too thrilled. What the hell was it? Have you seen any of those in the Enchanted Forest?"

Snow shook her head.

"I've seen a lot of things, but that definitely wasn't one of them. But, it was obviously working for the Witch. She must have opened a portal of her own and sent it through. I hope it was the only one."

Emma stuck the gun into the back of her jeans and cast a look around.

"You said there's still a few days before Regina reopens the portal," she said.

Snow shook her head.

"Not a few. _Six_. But, that thing is wounded. It'll have to lay low for a bit, maybe enough for us to wait it out."

Emma narrowed her eyes as she looked out the window. Finally, she nodded her head toward the bedroom.

"Get what you need. We're never coming back here. I'm going to grab a couple of things for Henry and I upstairs. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes."

Snow nodded.

"Be careful, Emma," she said.

* * *

The digits on the clock radio ticked over. The TV flickered, its sound low. Henry lay sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, fast asleep, his face pressed into a pillow.

Snow and Emma sat on the lumpy couch of the cheap hotel room, saying nothing. After returning to the babysitter's to retrieve Henry, Emma had led them to this hole-in-the-wall, a train ride from where they lived. They had no choice now but to hide until the time came. Until Regina opened the portal and they could escape to the Enchanted Forest. Emma had already plotted out where they would stay for the next few nights, choosing places at random, making it more difficult for Joseph Windsor…or whoever, whatever he was…to find them.

"So, how bad is it over there?" Emma asked, muting the TV.

Snow tucked her legs underneath her and leaned against the back of the couch.

"It's not good. The Witch is powerful, that much is clear. We haven't see her yet, she's keeping her distance. It's getting worse though. Regina, Tinkerbell and Blue are barely holding back her attacks. The last time…they barely made it."

"Do you think I have enough magic to help defeat this Witch?" Emma finally asked. "My magic has always been a little shaky."

Snow turned her head to look at her daughter. Her strong, resourceful, protective daughter.

"I have faith," she said softly. "I have faith in you."

Emma turned the TV remote over and over in her hands.

"Would you have gone back to the Enchanted Forest if you hadn't found me?" she asked hesitantly. "Would you have given up and found another way to beat the Witch?"

Snow drew in a deep breath. This was the very moment she had been waiting for. She shifted on the couch to face Emma.

"Regina and I talked," she began. "Just before I left the Enchanted Forest." She paused. "She gave me her blessing to turn around and return without you if I found you and Henry happy."

Emma's eyes widened.

"_Regina_ said that?"

Snow chuckled softly.

"Yeah. And there was no question that she meant it." She turned serious. "And part of me didn't know which way I was going to go." She ran her fingers gently over the rough material of the couch. "At first, I didn't even want to come and find you. Didn't want to tear you away from what I was sure was a happy life, something I wanted so much for you to have. But, when it was decided that you should be brought back, I knew _I_ had to be the one to do it."

Emma's mouth curled upwards slightly.

"Even when we met and started spending time together, I just couldn't stop moving from one extreme to the other until finally, I didn't think I could just turn around and walk away." Snow shifted forward into Emma's space and reached out to take her hand. "And I started to think to myself that maybe you weren't as happy here as you were supposed to be."

Emma shrugged one shoulder.

"We were ok. Henry was…"

Snow squeezed Emma's hand.

"I'm talking about _you_, Emma. I'm talking about…" She heaved a deep breath. "I'm talking about the day you broke the first curse and we met for the first time as mother and daughter. Do you remember what you said? Because I will never forget it. You said even if we had all been cursed, at least we would have been together." She took Emma's other hand. "Well, we're all cursed. Or all uncursed. My point is we're all in danger and what we all need is to be_ together_. I didn't know my kiss was going to wake you up, so to speak, but I knew I was getting close." She shook her head, feeling the burn of unshed tears in her eyes. "We need to be together," she repeated.

Emma sat still and silent for a while.

"It was True Love's Kiss, wasn't it?" she asked eventually. "Like when I woke Henry after he ate the poisoned turnover? That's how you woke me."

Snow nodded.

"Yeah. It was True Love's Kiss."

Emma stared into space, her hands still clasped in Snow's. But, Snow barely felt the contact. She barely heard the sigh that escaped Emma's mouth. She didn't notice the flashing of the lights from the TV or the noise from the traffic on the street outside the hotel.

At that moment, all she saw was the barest of smiles on her daughter's lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Welcome to the final chapter of The Other Side of Memory. It's always fun to write Snow/Emma stuff and you guys always support me, so thanks!**

**I use a line from 2x03 here.**

Chapter 11

5 days.

Sleep was all but impossible. The hours of darkness ticked by interminably as they watched the street from their window. Looking for signs of him. _It._

They asked few questions about the time apart during those hours. Some details were known-Emma's job, Snow's battles with the Witch's minions. But some information-_did you miss me? Did you wonder?_-were left unspoken. For now. They had been implied, but would wait to be said.

For now, they watched the clock. And waited.

* * *

4 days.

A new hotel. A new uncomfortable bed. Henry asked why they didn't stay somewhere nicer. Emma replied it was easier to find a dive at short notice.

A hurried trip to a nearby grocery store for needed supplies. Snow kept one look over her shoulder the whole time.

* * *

3 days.

Tensions were higher as the time drew closer. Snow found she had got used to it, that it was all too easy to slip back into a life on the run, of keeping watch for enemies, of staying hidden. She found herself telling Emma about some of those long-ago days in the Enchanted Forest. Of meeting Ruby and her grandmother and the story of the wolf, of avoiding Regina's soldiers. Of meeting her True Love. And Emma, in turn, revealed some of her own history. Days spent avoiding school, avoiding foster parents, avoiding authorities. The day she'd stolen a bright, yellow car and her life had changed forever.

It felt right to share such stories in the dingy dark. In the small hours with nothing but the presence of each other and the knowledge that they would fight, _fight_, to stay together.

* * *

2 days.

Anxious moments when Henry thought he saw Joseph Windsor from one of the windows. The following hours caused muscles to ache from standing at the window for so long, eyes strained from searching the eternal crowd for a tell-tale sign. Making and remaking plans for the chance that something went disastrously wrong and they got separated. Or worse.

But, Snow would have relived that day over and over just to experience the way it ended. With Emma's head resting on her shoulder, her breathing deep and even in much-needed rest.

* * *

1 day.

Thirty days now felt like a lifetime. And the blink of an eye.

Snow stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow wasn't the end, it was just the beginning. And her doubts were starting to re-emerge, to crawl out of those deep places of her mind where they had been hiding.

It was an agony of dilemmas. A mother wanting to protect her child from danger. But, a mother wanting to be with her child, danger or not. A mother who desired so much for her daughter not to be drawn back into the chaos of magic, of evil. But, a mother whose daughter was the very symbol of hope against all those things.

She remembered Regina's words over and over.

_I will understand…if you come back without them._

But, that was no longer a choice. And even if it were, if it were the right thing, Snow knew she would be selfish this time. She remembered the look on Emma's face at the idea she had been woken with True Love's Kiss.

Bewildered.

Overwhelmed.

Happy.

_You were an orphan. It's my job to change that._

The look in Emma's eyes told her she had a job for life.

* * *

Snow peered out at the street from her vantage point inside the shop. Her eyes scoured the street outside. Busy as it was, she kept her eyes peeled for one person only.

Joseph Windsor.

Dark-haired, unshaven men were a dime a dozen as far as she could tell. Still, she was hoping something might stand out. A limp. Or bruising. A shoulder wound. All remnants of their confrontation less than a week ago.

But, she could spot no one that resembled the man. Perhaps they would be lucky. For once. She didn't want to complete the thought, lest she think it into being.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time to go. If all was well back in the Enchanted Forest, Regina would be preparing to open the portal at this very moment.

Snow walked to the door of the shop and opened it, hearing the soft tinkle of a bell. She took in a deep breath and exited the shop, letting the door swing shut behind her. She fixed her eyes on the alley.

The alley she had landed in.

Thirty days ago.

She checked the street for cars, then stepped out onto the road. Her coat was buttoned shut. It was the signal she and Emma had arranged. Emma would be watching from somewhere close by. If she saw Snow with her coat done up, she would know it was safe for her and Henry to join Snow in the alley. If the coat was unbuttoned…

Emma was to take Henry and get the hell away from there.

Snow walked with measured steps toward the alley. There was no shout. No one running toward her, ready to tackle her to the ground or pick her up by its claws and carry her away. Not that she expected it. The creature would not risk exposure while it had the ability to disguise itself as a man. She reached the other side of the road and made it to the entrance to the alley. Turning into it, she forced herself not to look around for Emma and Henry. They would join her presently.

The alley was empty as she entered. It look exactly the same as it had a month ago. She passed the dumpsters, the empty boxes and crates, the dark windows.

And stopped at the place she had awoken. There was no smoke, no noise, nothing to indicate a portal had been here or was about to be.

Snow turned back to where the alley met the street and saw Emma and Henry hurrying towards her. She smiled in relief as they joined her.

"Nothing?" Emma asked breathlessly, looking up and around them.

"No sign of the portal or flying monkeys," Snow replied.

Emma nodded, grabbing the edge of Henry's sweater and tugging him closer. They stood in silence for what felt like endless minutes.

"Come on, Regina," Snow muttered. "What are you waiting for?"

Henry looked over at her.

"Could she be in trouble back in the Enchanted Forest?" he asked, his forehead creased in concern. "What if she's hurt and can't get to us?"

Snow forced a smile, remembering the sight of Regina, bruised and bleeding after their most recent battle with the Witch's minions. A lot could change in a month. A lot could happen…

"You know Regina. Nothing can keep her down for long. I'm sure the portal will be here any time."

"Any time, perhaps. But, _in_ time?"

Snow and Emma whirled around, Emma yanking Henry behind her. Joseph Windsor stood against the wall barely metres from them, his arms crossed casually across his chest.

Emma cursed, her fingers still tight around Henry's collar.

"Great," she muttered to Snow. "Now what? I could shoot him, but the noise might bring other unwanted company. I'm not too keen on anyone in this world seeing a portal after the whole Greg and Tamara fiasco."

Snow took a step over, so she was now partially in front of Emma. She didn't need to wonder what she would do to make them safe. Didn't need to think about whether or not she would do anything to get them back to their family and friends. The answer was always simple that way.

She reached behind her back.

"Give me the gun," she said quietly.

She heard Emma's intake of breath.

"Seriously?" Emma replied.

Snow glanced once over her shoulder, before moving her gaze back to the man who was now approaching, step by step.

"Yes. Because we can't let him get through. The others have no idea he's here. He could somehow slip past everyone and go straight to the Witch and report everything. We need to buy even a little time before she knows what's happened." She gestured with the hand still behind her back. "When the portal opens, you're going through with Henry."

She could practically hear Emma shake her head violently.

"No way. We go through together, just like last year."

"No, Emma," Snow said firmly. "Listen to me. I need to get _you_ out of here and you need to get _Henry_ out of here. You two go together. Tell Regina what's happened, tell her she needs to close the portal. Give me five minutes from the time you jump in and then if I'm not back, she closes it." When Emma didn't answer, she said softly, "You have to do this. I'll wait until the last possible moment, so just make sure she doesn't close it too early."

She had barely finished speaking when the dust and loose papers nearby began to stir. As the debris picked up speed, beginning to spin, Snow felt the pressure of metal being pressed into her hand. The gun. She had, of course, never fired one before, but she hoped it would be enough of a threat to keep Joseph Windsor at bay for the few precious minutes they needed. She kept her eyes trained on him as he smirked, taking another step forward.

The portal sought to draw them all in, such was the violence of its twisting. Snow gestured Emma and Henry toward the deep purple hole.

"Go! Now!"

Still, Emma made no move.

"Emma," she said more gently. "Have faith in me. The first time you went through a portal was the worst day of my life. And when the curse broke, I vowed never to let you go through one again without me. And I didn't. Just give me those minutes and I'll follow you. We _will_ be together."

Emma finally stepped toward the portal, holding Henry's hand. She took one last look at the man inching closer, before fixing her gaze on Snow, her mouth set in a grim line.

We'll be waiting," she said firmly.

And then they were gone.

She had told Emma five minutes. She hoped she would need far less than that.

"How noble. Letting the _children_ go first," Joseph Windsor mocked. "My mistress will have such fun breaking them."

Snow pulled the gun out from behind her back and pointed it at him.

"If you're thinking of joining us, I wouldn't get too excited," she replied. The weapon felt heavy in her hands, cumbersome. And aggressive. A bow felt so natural, more like an extension of her arm. But, she had fought enemies so often in her life that her hands remained steady. She wasn't sure how well her aim would hold up, how much her arm might jerk if she pulled the trigger, but she had no intention of letting him know that.

He would make a run at her, Snow was sure of it. She had no idea if he had the means to return to the Witch on his own or if his had simply been a one-way trip. Her experience with cruel, merciless villains, however, told her a creature such as the one in front of her would be nothing more than a pet of sorts. And utterly expendable. And this was not its world either, meaning it would, more than likely, be desperate to return.

"You think I'm the only one?" Joseph Windsor asked, still smirking. "My mistress has thousands at her command! You think you've seen the worst she has to offer? She has only just begun to show you."

Snow took a step backward and to the side, positioning herself directly in front of the portal.

"Pity she'll have one less," Snow replied.

He came at her. One stride. Two strides.

She fired.

His face twisted in a foul grimace and she knew her aim was true. His face, his legs, his body began to morph and out of his mouth came the most inhuman screech. He flailed until his true form appeared. And as she watched the blood gush from a hole in its chest, the monkey sank to the ground, before disappearing into a pile of grey ash, which dissipated into the air.

Snow stared at the empty space for a long moment, drawing in a deep breath. Finally, she turned around.

And leaped for home.

* * *

They sat by the campfire. The euphoria of reunion had spent them all.

But, the reality of tomorrow could wait.

Never had her heart felt so full as when she had emerged from the portal to see Emma in David's arms, his gentle hand cupping the back of her head in that fatherly way he seemed to call his own. His eyes had met hers and she had almost been overwhelmed with the look of fierce love that hit her almost physically.

No, it was certainly not the end here. But, it felt like the end of something when she looked over to see Henry clutched in Regina's arms, the former Evil Queen and horror of the Enchanted Forest squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

And she had strode over to join her family's embrace, feeling the hope soar through her like never before.

A snap of crackling wood brought her back to the present.

Her eyes drifted over to Regina, who sat with her arm around Henry, his head on her shoulder. Her former step-mother looked up and their eyes met in the dying light.

There was no smile. They hadn't reached such an easy response. But, Snow caught the almost imperceptible nod. The nod to acknowledge a job well done. An understanding only they shared. Perhaps even to express…gratitude?

Snow returned the nod as Emma came to sit beside her. Emma, too, looked over at mother and son.

"I know what it was meant to be," Emma said and Snow turned her head to face her more fully. "I know we were supposed to leave and have this great life. Our best chance."

Snow's mouth curved up a little.

"I'm sensing a 'but…'

Emma smiled crookedly.

"We were safe, for the most part," she continued, resting her elbows on her knees. "And we were happy in a way. But…now that we're back, now that we're all together again…" She dropped her arms so they dangled off her knees. "I don't regret it, being here. We _should_ be together, Wicked Witches and flying monkeys and whatever else aside. I guess what I'm trying to say is…thanks. Thanks for being the one to come and get us. And thanks for breaking through with…you know. I mean, I know how you feel…about me…I guess it was just nice to see it for real, you know?"

_I guess I'm not used to someone putting me first…_

Hearing the echo of those words, Snow reached over and squeezed Emma's hand.

"Well, get used to it."


End file.
